A Tangled Web Pt 1: A Slide In Time
by ordinaryguy2
Summary: The Sliders bump into the TARDIS and end up having an encouter with the Borg that threatens everyone!
1. Default Chapter

**A TANGLED WEB Part I: A SLIDE IN TIME**

By Charlie I do not own any of the characters written in this story. All major characters are owned by rich corporations and I am just borrowing them. Also, I am making no money by writing this story. I write this for the fun of it as well as to better my creative instinct and grammatical skills.

Classification: Crossover

I think I should explain that part of what I am trying to do with this story is to mix as many storylines together as possible and still make it interesting and true to the characters. The challenge to myself is to effectively blend some old sci-fi with some new sci-fi shows. This story will include many crossovers starting with Doctor Who, Sliders and Star Trek.

Star Trek: The timeframe for this crossover finds the Next Generation crew in the movies, Deep Space Nine has been reclaimed from the Dominion and Ezri Dax is on board, and Voyager has Seven of Nine but not the Borg children.

Sliders: Sometime before season three began and the original four sliders were still together.

Doctor Who: The Fourth Doctor (played by Tom Baker) with his companion Leela and the canine robot K-9.

I will try to make everything clear and interesting. Please send e-mail with advice on how to better my writing style and story. This is my first story so please be kind but helpful.

Warning: There will be some character deaths. Not in part one but keep reading and you will see.

**A TANGLED WEB Part I: A SLIDE IN TIME**

By Charlie filled the many rooms inside the TARDIS. Leela rushed through the hallway until she came to the room where she found the Doctor leaning over the console. "What has happened? Are we under attack?" asked the beautiful brown haired young woman dressed in rough hunting leathers. Her eyes sparkled with the excitement of possible danger and adventure; her hand firmly grasped the knife still in its sheath attached to her belt.

"Nothing so exciting, Leela," spoke the Doctor. He turned a few dials while examining some of the readouts, "the TARDIS has simply run into something."

"How is that possible," asked Leela, still alert but calming down. Though she did not grow up with a technological background, she had learned to respect and trust the complex TARDIS that she and the Doctor traveled in. In fact, much to the Doctor's annoyance, due to her primitive upbringing she seemed to consider the TARDIS some sort of deity and the console some form of altar. However, the Doctor did not see himself as some type of holy man.

The Doctor didn't even bother to look up at her as he answered. "Since the TARDIS travels outside of space and time we must have bumped into something that was similarly traveling through space and time." The alarms stopped. "Finally!" the Doctor exclaimed. Then with no further explanation he moved to another part of the console and checked more of the readouts. "Hmmm… whatever it was does not appear to be there anymore. But there does seem to have been something alive out there. No make that four somethings alive… or were alive at any rate."

"Did we destroy them then, Doctor?"

"Hmm.. What!? No. No. We bumped it. Or merely tapped each other in passing. If we had crashed into each other directly then according to these energy readings we'd all have been wiped out of existence." He leaned up at Leela and smiled. "And that doesn't seemed to have happened."

"I see," answered Leela, who really wasn't happy with that answer. To die in battle was something Leela could easily accept, but to die by accidentally running into something else just seemed rather pointless to the young warrior. "Were the people in the other ship hurt?"

"Oh, I really don't know. There seems to have been no ship, yet we hit something. The really puzzling thing is these energy readings. I wonder…"

A swirl of bluish-white energy appeared out of the night sky filling the alleyway. One by one four figures were flung from inside the circular energy mass and into the hard walls of the alley. Then a moment later the circle of light closes in on itself so abruptly any witnesses would wonder if it had been there at all.

A groan of complaint rose from one of the four figures. "Ohhh…ow. I hurt. I really hurt something bad this time." Slowly the dark-skinned man turned and sat up. "I feel like I hit a brick wall."

"Well, you're partially correct," groaned another of the figures. An older man with a trim black beard and expanding waistline slowly got up brushing some of the dirt off of his clothing. "It was a wall," responded Professor Maximillian Arturo, "but not like any we've run into before. And it is certainly not made of bricks. I don't recall bricks ever being so hard."

"Professor!" a third figure called out. "My arm!"

The Professor turned seeing the young woman gingerly holding her left arm. "Wade! Don't move!" called out the Professor as he rushed to her side with a speed that one would not expect from such a large man. Once he looked the arm over his face became grave. "Well, there's good news and bad news."

The young woman, Wade Welles, looked at him with pain and confusion.

"The good news is that you'll keep the arm and play the keyboard again."

"And the bad news…?" she asked.

The Professor sighed but made sure he looked her in the eye as he told her. "It's a bad fracture with signs of some nasty bone splinters. This is going to require some medical attention that we cannot do ourselves. Rembrandt?"

The first figure, Rembrandt Brown, had finally managed to stand without support of the wall. When he heard his name called he turned to answer and almost fell in the attempt. "Yeah Professor?"

"Go to alley entrance and see what kind of world we arrived at this time. Wade needs medical attention."

Rembrandt turned to where the alley opened up. He used the wall to brace himself as he walked and began to marvel at how smooth the wall was. Smooth and hard, he thought. A twinge in his left leg almost made him collapse but he took a breath and continued. "Man, I think I need medical attention, too," he muttered to himself. Stepping out into the open his eyes first focused on the familiar sight of the Golden Gate Bridge, then he saw… "Toto, I don't think we are in Kansas anymore."

"What wrong, Mr. Brown?"

"I think you better come out and see this, Professor. Cause if you can't see this then I must have hit that wall harder than I thought!"

The Professor let out a painful moan as he rose to his feet. He knew he was going to carry the pain of this slide for at least a week. _This world had better be user-friendly or we are all going to be in real trouble_, he thought. After much limping he came to where Rembrandt was staring out into the landscape of the San Francisco Bay area. One look in the direction Rembrandt was gazing caused his jaw to drop. "I don't believe it."

The night sky of the San Francisco was filled with lights and huge buildings of fantastic shapes and sizes. But what was the hardest for the two Sliders to accept was the sight of ships flying around the sky. Ships that in no way resembled the planes used in their world.

"Spaceships," Rembrandt finally spoke.

"N-no. Not nec-necessarily." The Professor paused before continuing. "It could just be airships used like we use motor vehicles back in our world…in our universe."

"You really think they could make vehicles like that and not have them go into space?" responded the Crying Man half in shock and in anger.

"I'm not questioning that, but it is quite evident that this earth is much more advanced than our earth."

"Hey, guys!" came a shout from the alley.

"Wade?" the Professor asked barely turning away from the awesome sight in front of him. "Is something wrong?"

"Why isn't Quinn moving?"

The two men turned to each other. They had forgotten about Quinn! They both hobbled as they ran to where the prone body of the forth Slider, Quinn Mallory laid in the shadows just beyond where they had all fallen.

Wade had turned over the body of Quinn Mallory by the two men got there. His face was half covered with blood. Part of the blood came from where he had bit through his lip but most of it came from an ugly wound on his forehead, which was the first evidence of something seriously wrong.

The Professor checked his breathing and heart. "Not good, but still hanging on." Next he checked Quinn's eyes.

"He's gonna be alright, though, right?" Wade's eyes pleaded for a yes. "He's not going to d--!" She stopped unable to continue. Quinn had been one of her closest friends for years. Long before they had met the other two. Long before sliding. She had always thought that one day they would get together and get married, have kids and the whole ball of wax. Even when the sliding started she thought they would get together and settle down. If not on their world then on another. And now?!?

"At the very least he might have a severe concussion. And that is if he is extremely lucky."

"Q-Ball? Come on, man!" Rembrandt pleaded with his unresponsive friend. "You gotta get up! There's a whole new shiny world filled with all the technological goodies you like so much."

"Professor, what should we do?" asked Wade with tears in her eyes.

Before he could answer Rembrandt cried out. "Noooo!!!"

The other two Sliders turned to Quinn thinking he had passed on but they noticed his chest still rising and falling in shallow breathes. Then they saw the source of Rembrandt's cry. In Quinn's hand was a smashed timer that opened the sliding portal. Parts of it were even missing. So was their last hope of getting home.

"No! Now we're stuck here! Now we'll never slide home to our Earth! Our Dimension!"

A hand slapped him hard in the face bringing him back to reality. The first thing he saw past the stars was the angry eyes of Wade. Eyes that were crying. "How can you think of that at a time like this!?! Quinn is hurt and maybe dying here! He needs us to be there for him," she screamed. "He was always there for you when you needed him!" Her yells began turning more and more into hysterical sobs as she continued. "Now he needs us! He needs us to be strong for him … and help him!" She fell to her knees crying into her hands.

"I-I'm sorry, Wade, I didn't mean-"

"We don't have time for this, Mr. Brown."

Rembrandt looked stricken until he saw the soft light in the Professor's eyes.

"You will have to go for help. Wade and I will attend to Quinn until you return."

"Help?" Rembrandt repeated. "That's right. This is a futuristic sci-fiish world. They could probably fix up old Q-Ball faster than he could hurt himself." Rembrandt managed a grin. "I'm on it, Professor. I'll get help in no time." He looked down at the crying young woman. _Ah, man. I really upset her_, he thought. _What should I say? I should say something? Apologize or-_ "Wade, I'm going for help so everything is going to be okay, alright?"

She managed to look up at him. Suddenly a half smile strained across her face as she wiped away her tears in embarrassment. "Yeah. You go do that."

With a last look at Quinn's body Rembrandt turned and started hobbling toward the entrance of the alleyway. A thought of inspiration hit him. _Maybe these sci-fi people can even fix the timer_!

Halfway there he heard a voice call out, a voice he didn't recognize. "Freeze! This is a stick-up. Stop right where you are, Hew-mons!"

Rembrandt froze. _Not now_!! he thought. He slowly turned to see who had called out.

In the far end of the alley out of the shadows came two short, ugly, large eared, bald humanoids with thin jagged teeth. They couldn't possibly be human. Both seemed to be pointing something in his direction that made him think it was probably some sort of gun.

"Don't move! This is a stick-up!" the alien repeated obviously nervous.

"What do you mean stick-up?" asked his cohort, "these are phasers we're using, not sticks."

The first alien was rattled by the others questioning. "Shut up! It's an Earth saying used when robbing someone. If you would study the local culture you know that."

"You have to quote 'this is a stick-up' in order for the people to know they are being robbed? I would think a phaser pointed at them would give them the idea."

"Hew-mons are very stupid. That's why we have to say 'this is a stick-up' so they know what is going on." Exasperated the first alien turned back to the humans. "Now, freeze."

The second alien shook his head. "What does lowing their body temperature going-?!?" He stopped when he noticed his companion's phaser pointing at him. He turned backed to the humans staring at him. "Freeze, ugly Hew-mons!"

The Professor was the first to answer the aliens. "What is it you want?"

"We want the technology you use to go between parallel universes. Don't bother denying it. We heard you talking about it. Our Ferengi ears are very good at eavesdropping."

"Does this mean we aren't going to break into the warehouse after this to see what we can find," sounding disappointed.

"Will you shut up, Blout!" yelled the first Ferengi. "This technology is worth a hundred times more than whatever we would find in that warehouse. Now focus on the job."

"Alright," relied the second Ferengi who was suddenly more attentive now that he knew there were still credits to be had.

"Now where is the device you use, Hew-mon?"

This question was directed at the Professor, who seemed taken aback. Seeing that lying would get him nowhere he thought the truth just might. "The device lies broken there in my unconscious friend's hand."

"But you can fix it, yes?" demanded the first alien thrusting his phaser at the Professor in a threatening manner.

"No," the Professor partially lied. "It has to be almost completely rebuilt. And only he," the Professor pointed to Quinn, "has the knowledge to do it."

"He's dying?" asked Blout as he moved forward to look more closely at the prone human.

The Professor saw a chance and decided to take it. "He might unless he gets immediate medical attention."

"Who are you and where do you come from?" questioned the first alien. Then he squinted his eyes and raised his phaser at the Professor in a more aggressive. "And don't lie to me Hew-mon. I'll know if you lie to me and you won't like what I do to you if you do lie."

The black bearded man thought quickly of what he could say and what had already been spoken aloud about sliding in the alleyway. He didn't know the norm for this world so he would have to take everything at face value. That didn't help much considering that hostile aliens had weapons trained on him and his friends. But Quinn's immediate need of medical aid helped him to form desperate perspectives.

"My name is Professor Maximillian Arturo," He paused to reflect upon what he was about to do. He looked down at Quinn's battered body and then into the teary eyes of Wade and realized he had no choice. "We are Sliders. Travelers that go between parallel worlds that are alike but slightly different."

"Different how," demanded the first alien.

Arturo didn't like the fact of giving away to much information. He had hoped he could entice these creatures with some vague information so they would comply with his wishes of seeing to Quinn's injuries then eventually escape before they learned too much to become dangerous to other worlds. "Each world is unique. Some worlds are more advanced technologically, others are primitive." He grimaced and added, "Some worlds allow for the advancement of other creatures or even magic." He stopped wondering if he said too much. But it was too late to retract any of his statements so he decided to return to his appeal "Now see to my young friend's wounds!" he demanded. It came out more like a plea.

The leading Ferengi thought a moment. Then a twinkle of comprehension appeared in his eye followed by a broad grim. He turned to his companion. "Put your phaser on stun and shoot them. We're taking them with us. And if you question me about it, Blout, I'll dock you 55 of your earnings."

The second Ferengi bit his lip, a painful gesture for a Ferengi. He really wanted to ask some questions but profit was more important. So with a sigh he adjusted his phase setting and shot the female who was trying to stand up while cradling her arm. The Professor held up his hands in a futile attempt to surrender but was likewise stunned.

Rembrandt couldn't believe his eyes. Just when he thought things couldn't get any worse, they did. He turned and sprinted for the entrance of the alleyway willing his injured legs to go faster than they were willing to go. Phaser fire came close as he turned the corner. He stopped there unsure of what to do and unwilling to leave his friends, his last link to home, behind.

As he stood beside the wall he could hear the two Ferengi bickered amongst themselves. After a few minutes the bickering seemed to ease off as the two Ferengi talked things out. Rembrandt decided to take a chance and peeked around the corner. The Ferengi were standing over the bodies of his friends and one was holding the broken timer in it's hand. Then the air around them shimmered in white light and they were gone.

And Rembrandt was alone.

"K-9" called the Doctor

"Yes, Master," came a reply from around the corridor followed by a metallic object rolling into the room stopping in front of the doctor. The object basically resembled a metallic gray rectangular box on wheels with a bad facsimile of a dog's head mounted on the front.

"I need you to look at this signature analysis and compare them with the data in the TARSIS data records to find something similar. I need to know what could have made them and anything else you might discover."

"Affirmative." The little satellite dish-like ears began to twitch as it sought the information from the console of the TARDIS so that K-9 could fulfill the doctor's request.

Leela frowned. "Doctor, do you have any guesses as what it could have been?"

The doctor smiled at Leela. "I have some ideas but nothing conclusive yet."

"Such as?"

"Well, I know for certain the energy reading originated around the late twentieth century on Earth, but the means of the travel are still eluding me."

"And some of the means might be…?" inquired Leela.

"My, you're inquisitive today. But all right, I want to encourage that. Let me think, sometime in the later twentieth century of Earth, man had been making significant progress in technology. Some of those creative energies were applied to time travel."

"Like we travel in the TARDIS?" asked Leela as she sat down. Now that she got the doctor talking she knew he could keep himself going for quite a while. She might as well be comfortable.

"No, not like the TARDIS, but some of them are rather creative in how they have accomplished time travel, though I perceive them to be extremely dangerous and fool-hardy. For example, two scientists, a Dr. Tony Newman and a Dr. Doug Phillips, came up with the idea of extending a tunnel through time itself to visit the past."

(TV show-The Time Tunnel-1966)

"How could that be dangerous?"

"Things are always flying through space and time. The TARDIS has sensors to avoid such obstacles. Now, the-"

"But, Doctor, we were just hit by something while traveling through space and time."

"Yes, that is why it is imperative that we find out what it is so that the TARDIS can avoid it the next time," answered the doctor. "See, that is the whole problem with the 'time tunnel' the scientists had created. It was this big long thing that extended through time and space. They had no means of sensing objects coming at them. Even if they did they could not move out of the way of it. Of course, soon after they began the program they learned how little control over it they really had."

"I see." Leela thought a moment. "And another example would be…"

"Well, there is this group of… I guess you could call them the Time Lords of Earth. They are a group dedicated to preserving history from alteration from other time travelers or time anomalies. They call themselves the 'Voyagers' and use an ingenious little device called an Omni to travel through time. I believe I have one somewhere in the TARDIS. It had been broken and I have been meaning to fix it when I got the time but sometimes even in a time machine there-"

(TV show-Voyagers-1982)

"-isn't enough time. Yes. Having traveling with you, I noticed it a while ago."

"Yes well," sputtered the doctor, "I once met a Dr. Brown who built a time machine into a car, a Delorian, actually. Probably the most reasonable non-Gallifrian designs I have ever come across. Extremely interesting man. Was able to grasp the dangers of time travel and dealt with it accordingly." The doctor paused in thought. "I suspect he may have actually been one of the founders of the time traveling guardians, Voyagers. I shall have to look into that some day."

(Movie-Back To The Future-1985)

"Master," K-9 spoke up. " I have completed the analysis of the data you wanted examined."

The doctor pivoted on his feet to face the robot dog. "And?"

"It was a temporal spatial energy field. It was being used to generate a pathway between two parallel world."

"And what was transported through this tunnel?" asked the doctor.

"At the time of impact with the TARDIS there were four humans in the tunnel."

"Four people slipping from one world to another in a tunnel of pure energy?! Made from 20th century technology?!? Madness!"

Leela spoke up, "Are they all right?"

"What? Oh no, no I'm afraid they couldn't possible have survived a collision unless," the doctor paused in thought. "K-9, did the energy tunnel just end when it hit the TARDIS or did it continue on it's course?"

The metallic dog seemed to perk up in response to its master. "The energy tunnel was slightly deflected by the TARDIS causing the energy tunnel to go off course."

The doctor quickly turned to his console to navigate the coordinates that K-9 had supplied.

"Doctor, what are we doing?"

The doctor turned to her with a startling intensity. "We are going to find those four people, offer them any aid we can, and return them to where they should be. I refuse to be a hit-and-run driver." He turned back to his console to make more adjustments. "People who don't take care of their mistakes are a bane to existence. Responsibility is a sacred thing, Leela. We must never forget that."

Leela looked at the doctor with pride and just a little awe. "Of course, Doctor. I understand," she said quietly.

The Ferengi ship, _Flarqesf Snixek_ (_Spoils of_ _Profit_), quickly made its way out of the Earth solar system and on its way toward the Ferengi Homeworld. Although the ship flew in the silence of space, inside the ship was anything but silent.

Dverl walked purposely onto the bridge ignoring the hisses of his fellow Ferengi crew members. Following him, Blout came cowering and unwilling to look anyone in the eyes.

"Dverl, what in the name of the Grand Nagus have you done!?!" screeched a Ferengi sitting next to the DaiMon's chair.

Dverl felt the angry eyes of his crewmates on him. Crewmates that had expected him to come back with valuable technologies stored in the Starfleet warehouse. Not three injured Hew-mons. Word had spread fast through the ship but he had expected that. Now he just had to get them to listen to him before they confiscated all his holdings and spaced him off the ship. "Watch your tone with me, you lobeless monstrosity!"

Gint's nostril's flared and a angry flush spread across his face causing his ears to burn a bright red. It was insulting enough that Dverl had talked back to him but that he should use the damage incurred from a rather irate Klingon customer in his insult only made it more... insulting!!

The eyes of the bridge crew were glued to the two antagonists waiting for what they did not know, but they wanted to be ready for it. Blout's jaw just hung open in shock of all the activity around him.

Then from the other side of the room came a wheezing noise. Heads turned to see the DaiMon of the ship standing in the doorway to his private quarters. He was skinnier than most Ferengi, had more wrinkles and one could easily see he was ill. Truth was he had a simple virus that could easily be treated but would not be because he didn't want to pay for the medication. He was frugal that way and in many other ways. And his crew respected him for it. And now as they listened to his wheezing they knew he was laughing. He had been sick for a while now.

A young intern was at the DaiMon's side and helped him his chair in the middle of the room. Nix than took his seat at the feet of the DaiMon. He had paid highly for the right to sit there and gleam the words of wisdom and advice that came from the famous DaiMon of the _Flarqesf Snixek_. He had sat there for six months already and still had it reserved for two more. Normally an intern would not be allowed to stay that long on the ship but Nix was the DaiMon's nephew so had been allowed to pay the extra amount to stay on further.

The DaiMon, Shmun, shook his head trying to get the pain out that was building up in his ears. As DaiMon of the ship he was expected to come up with profit for himself and the crew. And as DaiMon if the ship did not make profit he had to find someone to blame. Dverl had been his chief agent of acquisitions for three years and never before had he made such a non-profitable mistake. Still, that wasn't going to keep Dverl and Blout from getting hung by their ears.

"Dverl, I sent you to appropriate certain items in the Star Fleet Academy's warehouse. Items that I had certain buyers already in line to sell to. Now I hear you are back, early I might add, without any of the items I requested, and with the added baggage of three Hew-mons, one of which is almost dead." Shmun paused, his quiet, wheezing voice had somehow silenced the entire bridge and he kept it so with his stare. "Well, Dverl, is there anything I left out?"

"He insulted your second in command and your honor," roared Gint.

"Nix," snarled Shmun. "Dock em' one." It was one of Shmun's customs to charge a penalty to anyone who brings up matters that are not consequential to the matters at hand. The common fine was one strip of latinum for every act of insubordination. And on Shmun's ship anything that happened to bring that discussion away from profit or was not regarding the profit was considered insubordination.

Gint opened his mouth to protest but caught himself. He had been on this ship for years and had once been witness to a similar situation while he had been a lowly engineer. The arguments had started quickly and as it heated up Shmun had docked people throughout the whole discussion. In the end nothing had been resolved to the crews advantage -the unfortunate scapegoat was spaced and his belongings confiscated by the DaiMon and the DaiMon had levied out over 37 fines to his crew. The lesson that Gint learned best from that experience was that Shmun would find profit in any situation. Even at the expense of his crew. He chose his words carefully. "What measly excuse could he give that could explain his incompetence? He messed up and cheated us- No," he paused for effect and turned to his Ferengi shipmates, "he stole from us the profits that would have been ours! Why should we listen to him now!"

Shmun sat back in his chair in amusement deciding this wasn't worth docking yet. Gint had stayed on the subject even if he was getting over dramatic about it. "Very well, Nix, tell him why we should listen to what Dverl has to say."

Nix grinned wildly at being asked to participate. "Of course, sir." Still grinning he turned to Gint. "The Seventh Rule of Acquisition: Keep Your Ears Open," he quoted.

Shmun's first thought was of tearing Nix's ears off. Then he looked over at Dverl who had been strangely quiet this whole time. Worse. Dverl was smiling, too. "Very well," he said begrudgingly, "let's see if there is any profit in this."

With a gesture from Shmun, Dverl addressed his audience. "My fellow crewmates, I can easily understand your initial reaction of anger in you common greeds not being meet here today." He stopped and allowed them a few seconds to mutter to themselves before continuing. "But I have accomplished something that may not only meet all of your greed today but for the rest of your lives." This time when he paused there was silence caused by their unbelief. Shmun sat listening patiently with no show of emotion on his face. Only his attention. Dverl continued. "The profit margins that can be made by these Hew-mons are incalculable."

Gint laughed as he stood up from his chair. "Surely you over exaggerate!"

Dverl smiled. "No, I do not."

"This is preposterous!" shrilled Gint.

"Nix, deducted another slip of latinum from Gint," said Shmun casually. "Dverl, please enlighten us with your findings. And what do you think is so profitable about these Hew-mons."

Gint growled softly as he watched the giggling Nix charge another penalty to his account.

Dverl discerned that his onlookers we finally ready to here him out. He could tell that a few had even begun to hope that he was telling the truth. They would soon learn that he was.

"As Bloat and I were attempting to gain entrance into the storage building we happened to see a most interesting sight which turned out to be the arrival of some Hew-mons." He stopped with a sigh. "It was rather breath taking, wasn't it, Blout?"

Blout cringed at being brought up during such a delicate and dangerous debate. And a potentially costly one at that. Looking to the left and right at his fellow shipmates he managed to produce a response which only came out as a gurgle.

"Yes," continued Dverl paying no attention to Blout, "as soon as I saw it I knew there were riches to be had but-," He paused looking out to see a captive audience waiting to hear where the profits were to be made. Gint still stood with his arms crossed but Dverl knew he was paying close attention. A glance at DaiMon Shmun showed the older Ferengi to be sampling some of his Hupyrian beetle snuff, but Dverl knew he was under closer scrutiny from him more than by anyone else on the ship. He continued, "It wasn't until we overheard the Hew-mons talk amongst themselves about their situation that I was reminded of the Ninety-fifth Rule of Acquisition."

It took Nix a moment before he realized that Dverl's stare at him meant he was suppose to quote the Ferengi Acquisition Rule as he had for Shmun even though everyone on the ship, with the possible exception of Blout, already knew the Rules of Acquisition backwards and forwards. At first he balked at being put in such a situation by someone who was himself in a desperate situation. Then his mind kicked in and he could not see how this particular Rule of Acquisition could be used in this mess. "Uh," he started. "Expand… or die?"

"Exactly!" Dverl smiled. "Expand or die. Now consider this rule and see how relevant it is for us. The Ferengi have saturated this area of space as far as our ships can take us. It hasn't been easy, especially when certain races like the Hew-mons give bad reports about us to races that haven't even had business dealings with us yet." It was a sore subject but the grunts and hisses acknowledged his assessment of the situation so far. "That was why when the Bajoran Wormhole suddenly made access to the Gamma Quadrant the Frengi traders leaped forward to make contact with new customers."

"So?" demanded Gint. "We seek new customers because some of the old ones are jealous of our gifts at bartering." He made a gesture to his mangled ears. "I think I understand that situation very well but how is that relevant to your actions tonight."

"Patience, Gint," said Shmun, "I think he might be actually going somewhere with this." He turned to Nix, "Intern, now why would the Ferengi continue to go out into foreign space instead of staying home and enjoying the pleasant rainfall everyday."

"Uh," Nix knew it was a trick question. No Ferengi enjoyed the constant rainfall of their home planet so Nix concentrated on the other part of the question. Then he answered hesitantly. "The Seventy-Fifth Rule of Acquisition?" When Shmun nodded Nix continued, "Home is where the heart is… but the stars are made of latinum."

"Exactly," laughed Dverl. "You do understand where I am going with this!" he said to Shmun, who he knew didn't know exactly where this was going but still was miles ahead of the other Ferengi in the room.

"Well, then explain it to the rest of us then," grumbled Gint. "Why did you bring back these three Hew-mons?"

Dverl began to unfold his tale of dimensional-traveling Hew-mons. Also the possibilities for profit that dimensional-traveling Ferengi could make. "Imagine world after world that does not know of Ferengi. We could trade in one world where technology is high and trade on another that is low-tech. If a world decides to become inhospitable than we just won't return there. And can bring all new unique things back to our home dimension to sell all over again for even more profit!" As he finished his tale of an inexhaustible supply of wealth flowing into their accounts he saw that the crew was salivating at his every word. _Now for the bad news_, he thought to himself. "There is just one problem."

"What?" asked Gint. Gint was a little disgusted with himself. He had found himself glassy-eyed and salivating just like the rest of the crew. He needed to keep his ears cleared if he was going to lead himself to profit.

Dverl held his tongue letting the anticipation build amongst the crew for a moment. "The device that opens these portals to parallel universes is broken, and its creator is one of the three Hew-mons captives aboard the ship but he will die unless he gets medical aid."

The crew cried out in anguish.

"Right now he is in a stasis field but if we can get the Hew-mon medical aid and have him to fix the world jumping machine then… then we will all be richer than any Ferengi has ever dreamed!!!" screeched Dverl.

Everyone one clamed up when their wheezing DaiMon rose to his feet. "At this point we don't seem to have any other choice if we are to still profit from this venture at all." Grumbling commenced immediately. "Besides there's nothing wrong with charity."

The crew gasped at this last statement.

Shmun grinned and continued. "As long as it winds up in your pocket!"

The crew laughed even as Nix announced the One Hundred Forty-Fourth Rule of Acquisition. A common but effective source of humor for Ferengi.

Rembrandt huddled in the dark end of the alley. At first he had searched the entire alley for clues about who these 'Ferengi' were and where that might have taken his friends. After a time he collapsed in exhaustion and pain. His legs were screaming for rest and medical care. Rembrandt, know to his music fans as the 'Crying Man', wept. He had lost the others in a new strange world and all he had to show for his efforts were a few computer chips that had fallen out of the broker timer.

Suddenly a rhythmic raspy groaning could be heard. Rembrandt ducked down low but he hadn't seen anything enter the alley. _Great. It must be invisible_. Then out of nowhere an antique British police box appeared.

"Oh boy," muttered Rembrandt, "I musta got knocked around harder than I thought." Still with all his Sliding experience Rembrandt wasn't going to dismiss this as an illusion. He had no idea what was normal in this world. This could be an everyday occurrence here.

Then the doors to the police box. A leather clad beautiful woman walked out followed by a brown curly-haired man wearing … Rembrandt couldn't take in much more than the frumpy wide-brimmed hat and scarf. But the man's wide-eyed stare was one of such intensity that Rembrandt immediately felt he should question this man's sanity.

"There!" exclaimed the woman. And Rembrandt was surprised to note that she was pointing directly at him. "There is a man hiding in the shadows."

The scarfed man pulled out one of his many devices from his pocket and extended it in the section of the alley that Rembrandt was hiding in.

"This cannot be good," muttered Rembrandt. He wanted to run but there was no where to go and he was just too tired to move anyway.

The Doctor moved a few dials on the device before studying the results. "Yes, this is one of the individuals who was traveling through the energy tunnel we bumped earlier." He took a few steps toward were Leela and his scanning device had pointed out the man to be located at. Then caution came in to play. Better to send a few words of greeting into the dark then rush blindly into the unknown. Putting on one of his cheerier smiles he called out into the darker shadows. "I say, hello there. We mean you no harm. Come out of the dark and talk to us."

"I can't."

"Are you hurt?" inquired the Doctor.

"Yes!" came the blunt reply.

The Doctor was surprised at the myriad of emotions that had been expressed by the individual still hidden in the shadows. With just that one word he could hear the exhaustion, pain, frustration and fear that was overwhelming him. As the Doctor stood there guilt came upon him but was quickly chased away by his sense of duty.

Leela was only half-surprised when she noticed the Doctor suddenly walking into the darker part of the alley. "Doctor! He could be dangerous!"

"I'll find out then, won't I," replied the Doctor as he continued walking.

As his eyes adjusted to the dark he could make out in more detail the condition of the man that propped up sitting on the far wall. It didn't look good. "Leela, I'm going to need a hand here."

Rembrandt looked up at the curiously dressed man. "Who are you?"

"I'm the Doctor."

Confused, Rembrandt asked, "Who?"

"Exactly. I'm the man who's vehicle you and your three friend ran into with that energy tunnel."

"What?" Rembrandt just seemed to be getting more lost the more the man talked but he needed to know what was going on so he tried to pursue the matter. "You hit the vortex?"

"No," denied the Doctor as he examined Rembrandt for injuries. "Your 'vortex' ran into my TARDIS!"

"Sorry to interrupt the beginnings of a good squabble," interposed Leela, "but where are your three companions?"

The man sighed and a sadness moved across his eyes. "They were taken."

Somewhere else someone watches. "This is amusing so far," he spoke to himself. He often spoke to himself. Others of his kind believed it was because he liked the sound of his own voice. They are probably right. "But let's see what happens when I do this!"

Elsewhere a sub-space message is received through deep space after being misdirected. It was a one-way message mainly due to the fact that the distance between where it was being sent and where it was to be received were to great for two-way communication. That and it was cheaper. So the fact that the message was misdirected was never known until later. And then it was too late.

A Ferengi face appears on a screen and immediately began talking. "Oblix. This is Shmun." The Ferengi smiled largely and continued. "Remember all that latinum we made on those Brean sprockets? Well, we have an even better opportunity here." The Ferengi stopped smiling a got down to business. "In order for this to work we need you to round up some things. First, we need someone with medical knowledge of Hew-mons. Specifically, someone who can deal with head trauma and be able to download memory from a damaged brain. Next we'll need some eggheads to look at a device I've got here. Someone who can grasp concepts of parallel worlds and temporal energies and similar mumbo-jumbo. Don't mess this up, Oblix. Opportunities like this will never come again." A glaze came over his eyes as his imagination began to take in the possibilities. "It could provide us with the ability to become traders of the most exotic merchandise ever whether it be grains, animals, or technology. If this works out we will be the richest beings in the galaxy" The glaze disappeared as he refocused himself. "So in other words, don't mess this up! Shmun out."

The ship that had received Shmun's message analyzed the message and the direction from which the message had come. Within a minute the ship changed direction and began an intercept course.

"What is this place," asked Rembrandt looking around the console room.

"This is the TARDIS," replied the Doctor. "The console room to be specific."

"Here it is, Doctor." Leela came in carrying the medical supply box.

"What's a tardis?"

"The Doctor grunted. "TARDIS. Pronounce it right or it may take offense." Pulling out a few things from the medical supplies he waved them around Rembrandt's body wildly as he took readings much to Rembrandt's dismay. "The name TARDIS is actually an acronym. It stands for 'Time And Relative Dimensions In Space'. It's really rather useful."

As he looked at every thing around him his mind just couldn't take it all in. "All this is inside an antique British police box?"

"No," answered the Doctor as studied a few of his devices.

"So it's all just a trick or illusion."

The Doctor looked up offended. "No. The TARDIS is actually a … I guess you could call it a dimensional cubby hole that can be used to store things while also providing transport through time and space."

"So you travel around to other worlds in style and comfort in this TARDIS while my friends and I slide inside a whirlpool of energy?"

"Yes, that's about right."

"I think you got the better deal." The doctor grunted in agreement as he fished around inside the medical box again. "Must be nice traveling in this, though."

"Oh, it has its moments."

"I'll bet," muttered the injured man. "So what can we do about my friends?"

The Doctor sighed. "K-9, do an analysis of our new friend here and see if you can get a residual energy reading from that energy vortex they were traveling through."

Rembrandt started to jump away as a little robotic dog came wheeling toward him but stopped when the pain from his sudden movement hit him. The little metallic canine stopped two feet from Rembrandt and began moving his satellite dish-like ears in his direction not unlike how the Doctor had originally waved the medical scanners around him. After thirty seconds the dog announced in a electronic synthesized voice, "Done."

"Good boy, K-9. Now coordinate your efforts with the TARDIS to see if you can find a trail of where this man's three traveling companions would be."

"Affirmative, master." The little mechanical dog turned to the console of the TARDIS and began communicating with it.

Rembrandt watched the K-9 unit with fascination noting that the ears were moving again. He was surprised to note the tail was wagging, too. "That's quite a dog you have there."

"K-9? Yes, he is quite remarkable. Once he gets on a trail he will follow it to the end." He looked up at Rembrandt as he finished examining the injured man's legs. "Your friends should be found shortly then we can return you home."

"That home part sounds real nice but I'll believe it when I see it." His voice hinted at his longing for home but he still managed a smile.

"Been a long time since you've been home," inquired Leela as she handed him a cup of hot tea.

"Only thing that has kept me going is my three good friends. We started out on this sliding odyssey together."

"Oh my! Let me guess. Once you started traveling to parallel worlds you couldn't find your way back to your own world."

Rembrandt chuckled. "You got it, doc."

The Doctor coughed. "Well, yes. I hate it when happens. Anyway here." He handed Rembrandt two orange pills from the medicine supply kit.

"What are these for?"

"You have a fracture in your left leg. Those pills will solidify it so that it will be better than it was before in less than 24 hours."

"Well, you're the doc, doc." Saying that he put the two pills in his mouth and washed it down with some tea."

The Doctor turned to put away the medical kit while muttering something about Americans.

Gint was not happy. Everyone on the command deck was giddy from trying to imagine the possessions they would buy with the latinum they had not even come close to finding out that they would get yet. Even Shmun seemed to be showing signs of the childish behavior much to Gint's dismay.

Finally the mood of the ship was brought in check by one of the ensigns. "DaiMon, there's a ship on an intercept coarse."

The crew held their breath as they turned to their wheezing DaiMon.

"Hmmph," grunted Shmun. "Well, you all know the Number One Rule of Acquisition, right?"

This time the whole crew, except for a gloomy Gint, recited the rule. "Once you have their money, you never give it back!" With that they prepared the ship for battle. Very few things in the universe can be as fierce as a Ferengi defending his wealth.

Gint snorted. "But we haven't made any profit yet."

Dverl chucked at him. "Gint, you couldn't spot a profitable deal if it came up and introduced itself to you."

In spite of the activity in the command center a few Ferengi couldn't help but openly laugh at the insult. But the DaiMon was not laughing. "Gint! Either make yourself useful or get off my ship."

Gint gritted his teeth. A painful expression for a Ferengi. Then with determination he went over to the ensign who had sighted the intruding ship. "Let's see what we are up against."

The ensign punched a few buttons than gasped at his screen.

"Well. Out with it."

The ensign just continued staring then started trembling

Gint pushed the ensign out of his chair then looked over the visual readouts. Then he too gasped.

"Well," demanded Dverl as he stood next to Shmun.

Gint turned toward them with shock written all over his face. Then he took a breath. Then another. Finally his eyes focused of Dverl. "Dverl, I -I underestimated you. I'm sorry."

Dverl was taken aback. "Gint, what's out there?" His voice was a lot quieter than he had meant it to be.

But Gint wasn't listening to him. He had lowered his eyes to Nix who immediately felt uncomfortable under the stare. "The Sixty-Second Rule."

Gint's stare just kept boring into Nix until he couldn't stand it any longer. "The, uh, the riskier the road, the greater the, uh, profit."

"Exactly," smiled Gint. "And this," he motioned to the sensor screen in font of him, "proves that this could have been a very profitable enterprise, indeed. They must have heard what we had and come for it themselves."

Shmun coughed with a little apprehension. "Gint, put the visual on the main viewer."

"Of course," he said, his smile now resembling one of a young child.

The main viewer centered of a ship fast approaching. A cube-shaped ship.

A voice came over the intercom from the converging vessel. "We are the Borg. We will assimilate your biological and technological-" That was as far as they got into their introduction before the Borg voice was drown out by the screams of the terrified Ferengi.

Somewhere on a nearby asteroid overlooking the encounter between the two ships someone watched rubbing his hands together in glee. "Oh, this should prove to be very entertaining indeed." Saying that he disappeared in a flash of light.

"Course deviation. Quarry has altered it course," barked K-9.

"What? What's going on?" Rembrandt started to sit up in the chair in which he had almost fallen asleep. "Is he- it or whatever it is talking about the others?"

Leela was immediately at his side. "You must rest and heal if you are to be of any help to your friends."

He still tried to rise to his feet even though the pain was telling him not to. "I just want to find out-"

"Sit." Leela gently pushed him back down. "I am from a warrior tribe. We know the need to help our friends and family members." Her face became firm as she looked him in the eyes. "But we also understand the necessity of healing and resting so that we will be able to save our loved ones when such a time arrives."

It was at that point that Rembrandt took a good hard look at Leela. This was not some young woman trying to look good in leather. The knife she wore at her side was not for decoration. This was someone who lived the hard warrior side of life. "All right," he said, "I'll just listen from here."

"Cheerio," said the Doctor as he entered the room. "What's this about a change of course? Did we change course or did they?"

"They have, master."

"Well, where are they headed now?"

"They have turned 180 degrees and are coming right toward us," responded K-9.

"I see. Well that should make things easier." The Doctor paced as he pondered this new turn of events. Leela and Rembrandt sat at the side as spectators awaiting an outcome. "Are they returning to Earth?"

"Insufficient data," came the quick reply.

"Why would they be returning to Earth?" the Doctor inquired of himself.

"Maybe the others took over the ship and are returning for me," exclaimed Rembrandt.

The Doctor stopped. He didn't like being shown up. Especially on his TARDIS. "Not very likely, but possible." He turned to his console and began making adjustments.

Leela walked over to the Doctor. "What are we doing?"

The Doctor turned and smiled. "I thought we would go put Rembrandt's theory to the test."

"How?" was all Rembrandt asked.

"By landing on that ship and asking your friends if they have taken it over," bluntly replied.

K-9 once again interjected his presence. "The approaching vessel is of a different construction than the one we originally began to pursue."

"But my friends are still on it?" asked Rembrandt in desperation.

"Affirmative."

"Oh my!" said the Doctor as he examined the monitors on his console.

"What is it, Doctor?" asked Leela

The Doctor looked up with his eyes wide. "It's big!"

The Nebula-class Federation starship U.S.S. John Wayne soared peacefully through the dark field of stars. The ship had just gone through a series of much needed refitting and updating back at the space docks orbiting Mars, while much of the crew had been able to take shore leave for a week. Now that it was complete, they were heading out on to bring supplies to a struggling colony near the Federation-Dominion border before joining in the struggle against the Dominion and Cardassians. On board the crew was experiencing another boring time on the night shift. To pass the time two of the crewmembers on duty would usually debate each other for the fun of it while the others either joined in or had quiet conversations of their own..

Commander Hofman sighed and tried to express himself again. "I'm not saying that it's wrong. I'm just saying something doesn't seem fair about it."

"Fair?" chuckled the lieutenant at the comm station. "There's nothing fair or unfair about it. It's all on initiative." The Andorian turned to face the commander sitting in the captain's chair. "A majority of the races that make up the Federation just don't have the desire to take part of what Starfleet is all about. Though quite willing to participate in its results."

"What about you?" pointed the commander. "You've joined Starfleet. From what I've heard very few Andorians are willing to do that."

Alber smiled beamingly. "There's an exception to every rule." Then the lieutenant paused as he scratched one of his antennae on his head. "Besides, as far as my actions or life pursuits are concerned I'm a minority in what I do."

"Yes okay, let's take your race for an example. Why don't more Andorians join Starfleet?"

Alber thought for minute then answered. "No, let's consider why humans feel the need to join Starfleet."

Commander Hofman chuckled. "Turnabout is fair play. Very well, I think it's our need to explore and to have adventure. To seek out the unknown." He saw his blue friend smiling. "Is that what you were looking for?"

"Not exactly, but I can work with that argument." The Andorian steepled his fingers as he contemplated how to address his argument. "I think that you humans have an over-desire to seek out new worlds, people and problems. Much more than the other races in Starfleet. That is because your race has more affinity to that field and more of your kind would naturally seek it out than those of other races. You see Earth has a much larger variety of cultures and races then other worlds. Instead of absorbing these other cultures or eliminating them like my people had done when they were more barbarous, Earth is unique in the fact that humans have learned to accept and appreciate foreign cultures. "

"Um, I hate to bring this up but that often times was not true."

"Nevertheless, over time when your human ancestors left their primitive nature behind and reached for the stars there were still hundreds of various cultures on your planet. Why to this day there are still many different varieties of languages used amongst your species." Alber shook his white-haired head in amazement. "Your peoples ability to live with and accept people of a different culture gives you a huge advantage over non-humans. And thus you have my thesis. Your people are more comfortable in Starfleet."

"I'm not sure I buy into that."

"Ever the optimist," he groaned. "All right let's take a look from a different angle."

"Fine by me," he smiled and leaned back in his chair.

"You know that there is a Ferengi that has joined Starfleet."

"Don't reminded me," groaned the commander.

"Prejudice?"

The commander scowled. He was a quarter Vulcan on his mother's side. Even though he didn't try to control his emotions he was still proud of his heredity. "No, I just know what to expect from Ferengi."

"Ah, but I have met this Ferengi. At first I had the same opinion as you but as I got to know him as an individual I realized that he was different."

"What? He doesn't care about latinum," scoffed the commander.

"Please," the lieutenant tried to sound indignant. "He has not lost his love for profit. But he has chosen another path to get it. In addition, he has discovered the profit of self-respect and honor. He is proud of his Starfleet uniform and the duties he has much more than most Starfleet personnel."

"It could all be a scam to sell us out when something really valuable crosses his way."

One of the Andorian's blue antennae raised itself higher. "Strange. A lot of people said similar things about the first Klingon to join Starfleet."

"That's not the same thing-"

Alber's console beeped. "Always interruptions when things are just getting interesting." The Andorian pushed a few buttons on his console.

"Well?" the commander inquired.

"Something's coming up in front of us fast. I'm not-" He gasped. "By the Maker!"

"What is it?" demanded the commander.

"Borg!" cried the lieutenant.

"Red Alert!" hollered the commander. "Shields now!" He bit his thumb hard. He, like many in Starfleet, had run many simulations in the holodeck relating to Borg attacks. And Commander Hofman, like everyone else, had never won any of them. "I want a visual now!"

The view screen changed to show the stars and space behind the USS John Wayne. And a closing Borg vessel.

"I want photon torpedoes ready to fire as soon as they are in range!"

"Captain Joyner to Commander Hofman. John, what's the situation?" came the captain's voice over the comm. system.

"Borg, Sir!"

Stunned silence was followed by a quiet reply. "I'll be right there."

Startled members of the bridge who had been either on break or other assignments quickly returned to their stations.

Alber called to his commander, "Sir, they are in range!"

Commander John Hofman gripped the armrest with his left hand solidly while he ran his other hand through his blond hair. "Fire!" he said tensely.

Somewhere else a being laughed at the altercation between the U.S.S. John Wayne and the Borg vessel.

The starship shot off volley after volley of photon torpedoes and sprayed the Borg vessel with its phaser beams. Finally as the Borg ship came close to the Starfleet vessel it lashed out with its our weapons causing the smaller ship to veer to the side with one of it's nacelles hanging off at an angle and depowered and the still powered nacelle causing the nebula class ship to begin to spiral.

Then the Borg vessel past the Federation ship and continued on its course to Earth.

"Ah, amusing yet still unsatisfying." The mischievous being watched the crippled ship as it spiraled in space. "Well, at least it isn't over yet."

Suddenly he turned to confront something where there was nothing. "Oh, what do you want?" As he listened to the nothingness that was around him he began to protest. "But it was all in fun! None of this really matters to us!"

His arguments were ignored and the nothingness took him away.


	2. Chapter Two

With wheezing and groaning sounds of protest the TARDIS slowly came into existence in an alcove in the wall of the Borg ship. Almost immediately the door of the blue telephone box opened up and a leather-clad woman came out brandishing a knife. Almost as quickly as the woman had rushed out the woman froze in place at the sight in front of her.

From the walkway where she stood Leela could see level after level of floors that continued both up and down seemingly without end. Each level seemed to have what at first Leela thought were people but after another look she noticed that most of them were not human and all of them had various parts of their bodies replaced with metal appendages.

Leela slowly backed up toward where the TARDIS was behind her. Her eyes frantically darting left and right to the creatures that were on the same floor as her seemingly aimlessly wandering around. Behind her a voice spoke.

"Leela, how many-"

Leela whirled around at the voice behind her lashing out with her knife at the throat of the Doctor. _Doctor_? She froze her hand just in time to stop from slashing his throat.

"-times do I have to tell you-" he paused and gently lowered her knife from his throat, "-do not rush into things without me." Not stopping to acknowledge what had almost happened, the Doctor sidestepped around the stunned woman to take in his new surroundings. "My, what do we have here?"

"Doctor," whispered Leela, "we must leave. Now!"

The Doctor turned to his companion and was about to say something when he noticed she was trembling with terror. "Leela? Whatever is the matter?"

Her eyes did seek his but kept darting the cybernetic creatures moving about them. "Doctor, don't you know where you have taken us?" She sobbed. "This is the Netherworld. This is where those who are evil go when they die to be tormented forever for their wickedness."

"You think this is Hell?" the Doctor sputtered. "Nonsense! Really Leela, after all this time traveling with me you would think that your primitive tribal background wouldn't keep hindering your common sense." The Doctor immediately knew he had made a mistake because not only was the fear still their but now it was accompanied by hurt. "But I'm sure it's a close facsimile of what Hell would be like."

Leela wasn't having any of it. She turned her back to him and went to the door of the TARDIS.

"Leela," called the Doctor apologetically, "we're really in a spot here and I need the help of my brave warrior companion."

Leela's hand froze on the doorframe of the TARDIS. A warrior's lot was never easy. Each day you had to face your fears. And each new day would bring new fears. But to face the horrors that she believed belong only in the Netherworld? She sighed and turned around. Each day a warrior must face their fears. Even those that go beyond death. "Very well, Doctor."

"That's the spirit," exclaimed the suddenly cheery Doctor. "Come, K-9. We have some hunting to do."

As K-9 glides out of the TARDIS the Doctor locks the door. For all intents and purposes he hoped their excursion wouldn't take to long. The sleeping pill he had given Rembrandt would only keep him asleep for up to six more hours.

K-9's ears rotated he analyzed the 'trail' he was to follow. When his ears stopped moving he spoke, "Quarry has separated to three different locations."

As K-9 began listing the whereabouts of the three people they were trying to aid the Doctor was getting a good look at the cybernetic beings walking by. "Hello," he smiled at the Borg nearest him. "I'm the Doctor and this is my traveling companion Leela. We are looking for-" He stopped as the being finished punching the console in front of it and wandered down to another one nine feet away and proceeded to the same thing to that console.

"Hmm. Not very cooperative." He thought a moment. "At least with me."

"Doctor?" Leela was next to the Doctor also analyzing the Borg now that she had gotten a grip on her initial fears.

"I think we are inside a cybernetic hive."

"Is that dangerous?" asked Leela innocently.

"If I'm right we will only be in danger if we disturb something. Other than that I think they will just ignore us."

"How do you know that?"

"I don't." He smiled at her. "One of my friends, he really liked a good puzzle or mysteries, anyway, he wrote a book on bees in his retiring years. An informative but dry read. These creatures seem to be behaving so similar to the insects my friend raised and studied that I think we can avoid any troubles."

(Author's Note: The friend that the Doctor is referring to is Sherlock Holmes, who took up bee keeping in his retiring years.)

Leela lifted her knife for a show of determination and bravery. "Don't worry, Doctor. I'll handle any of them that decide to give us trouble."

"No, Leela!" exclaimed the Doctor. "That's exactly what you should not do." He pointed to a small group of nearby Borgs walking by. "You see all those mechanical parts attached to their bodies?"

Leela shuddered and nodded.

"Well, some of those mechanical parts keep each of these drones aware of what each of the others sees and hears. They all see what everyone else sees."

"Then they ALL know we are here?"

"Yes."

Leela shock her head in trying to comprehend it. But if the Doctor says it is so than it is so. "Then why are they ignoring us?"

"Ah, good question," he beamed at her. "Now tell me without looking what is behind you."

Leela looked puzzled. "The TARDIS and K-9."

"Exactly, you know it's there but have not paid it any attention until it was brought to your attention. Why? Because you are concentrating on other matters." He waved his arm dramatically at the inhabitants of the Borg ship. "They are also concentrating on other things. But if we brought ourselves to their direct attention then we would have ALL of their attention."

"So if I happened to kill one of them-"

"We would have the rest of them breathing down our neck all at once!" Feeling that his barbarous friend would not do anything rash at the moment he turned to his faithful mechanical dog. "K-9, lead us to the nearest of your quarry."

"Affirmative," called K-9 as he glided down the corridor detouring around the occasional Borg in his way with the Doctor and Leela in pursuit.

crackle "-arfleet, this is-" static "-peat this-" crackle "ship John Wayne. We have-" crackle

"What is that?" asked the lieutenant. Terrance Hewitt was a thin man, dark hair and a moustache that had been greased over so that it curled up into points at both ends. It was the night shift and he personal liked it when anything out of the ordinary made this mundane time more interesting. He had held this position for three years now and still knew very little of everything that was expected of him. His incompetence and his high-standing family relations were just two of the reasons most people disliked him.

The ensign focused on the console in front of her. She was a young cadet that had been studying at the Academy for two years now before she also began taking night duties interning at the Starfleet Command Center at nights. She was one of the few students allowed to take on such duties while continuing with her regular classes at the Academy. More and more cadets were taking on such duties, as Starfleet needed more officers on the front against the Cardassians and the Dominion. Her only regret was she had to do her internship under the guidance of someone like Lieutenant Hewitt. Especially after that awkward situation when he had asked her out and she had laughed in his face uncontrollably. "It's a message from the U.S.S. John Wayne. But something seems to be causing interference." She made a few adjustments to her instruments. "That might clear things up a little."

The static cleared briefly to the words of the captain of the John Wayne. "-is Captain Brock J-" crackle "-ship John Wayne. We-" static

"Did you lose them?"

Ensign Charity King looked indignant. "No. **We** did not. Their signal is coming in but it is weak and seems to have something interfering with it. Regardless, the problem is not on our end."

Lieutenant Hewitt bit his lip. The Federation was currently at war with the Dominion so his first guess was that it was an attack. However the John Wayne was nowhere near the war zone so that seemed less likely the more he thought about it. Then he realized that it was near the space claimed by the Ferengi Alliance. He began to wonder if this might have to do with that Ferengi ship that had left Earth orbit so quickly hours ago. As much as he hated it, he knew he would have to make some kind of decision.

"Sir," Ensign King interrupted her superior's train of thought, "the static is clearing again".

"Good. Let's listen."

Ensign King sighed to herself in frustration. She wondered to herself for the hundredth time how a dunderhead like Hewitt could ever become a lieutenant in Starfleet. All he ever seemed capable of was stating the obvious.

Slowly the static cleared up and the voice of the captain of the John Wayne could be heard. "-we seem to have been left-" crackle "warp core is stabilizing but-" static "-hope you are receiving this-" static

"Why doesn't he just tell us?" muttered Lieutenant Hewitt.

"He probably is, but the static is blocking part of the message. And a problem with their warp core could add to the interference."

"I knew that!"

_Sure you did_, thought Ensign King. She worked on the console some more and set aside plans later to determine just who Lieutenant Hewitt's high ranking family members were who had dared to put him in such a position.

"-peat, we have encountered-" crackle "-Borg. They are headed toward Earth."

The two Starfleet officers were in shock. It took them a total of twenty seconds to put the whole Earth on Red Alert.

Alarms rang.

Thin arms pushed the blankets off. "Turn that blasted thing off!" hollered the old man on the bed. As he lay there in the bed the computer beeped. The man snorted. "Now what?"

The computer then replied with a synthetic female voice. "You left a request to be informed when the Borg returned to Earth."

"They already did that once," snapped the man. When the computer didn't reply the man weakly reached for his blankets to cover himself again. After staring out into the darkness for a moment he pushed the blankets off again. "Dagnabbit! I slept through the last invasion. I might as well go see what this one is all about." Having said his piece a determined Admiral McCoy got out of bed to see if there were any new adventures for a very tired, worn-out old man.

The Doctor examined the young man laying on the Borg bio-bed with great interest. From the description provided by Rembrandt Brown the doctor believed this man they tracked down to be Quinn Mallory.

"Are you sure he is not going to die," repeated Leela. See stood at alert carefully watching the Borg drones as they moved around waiting to see if they make a wrong move.

"Actually, I have no idea. But I do know that they are trying to repair his injuries and they have him on a type of life support I am unfamiliar with." He smiled to himself. "It's all rather fascinating, isn't it?"

"No," replied Leela.

"Hurmp." The Doctor returned his attention to the unconscious man and the remarkable equipment that was attending him.

"Doctor? Have you noticed the air?"

The Doctor's head popped up as he tried to notice whatever it was that Leela had already become aware of. Finally after a few deep breaths he gave his conclusion. "It's hot and humid."

Leela shook her head. "The air… has no life in it."

The Doctor's eyes widened. "Sterile."

Leela cocked her head. "I do not understand."

"It means that the air has no life in it. No little micro-organisms." The Doctor quickly began ruffling through his coat pockets turning up various objects. "Must have left it in my other coat," he muttered. Turning back to Leela he shrugged his shoulders apologetically. "Anyway, a warm, humid climate such as this should be teaming with wide varieties of bacteria but somehow it is not."

"Is this important?"

The Doctor paused in retrospect. "Everything is important. But everything is not always useful for us just now." Having said that the Doctor pushed up his hat and popped a jellybaby in his mouth. "Now what would be important to us right now?" Gazing around the room his eyes fell on his robotic dog. "K-9."

"Yes, master?"

"I'd like you to do some eavesdropping for me. See if you can listen in on the drone communication. Also, evaluate if you can influence the signal in any way to manipulate them or to break up communication altogether."

"Affirmative," declared the metallic canine. Immediately the robotic unit's antenna ears and tail began moving as it began to study the Borg communication signals.

"Doctor, these creatures on the other tables. Their ears resemble the Ferengi ears described by Rembrandt."

"Yes, I've noticed that. Poor chaps."

Leela was always amazed at the Doctor's compassion for these individuals but decided not to argue about it being misapplied under these circumstances. "Each one had a arm and eye replaced just as the drones have. And their clothing has been replaced. And tubes are coming out of them. Why?"

"Because they have been turned into drones now, too. This is obviously how these creatures procreate and continue their existence."

"Horrible." Leela stared at the seven Ferengi-Borgs lying on the tables in horror. "Doctor, would they try to do this to us as well?"

"Oh, yes, if that is what they set their minds to do."

"But why didn't they replace this man's arms and eyes?" asked Leela as she motioned toward Quinn.

"That's the very thing I've been wondering about. I suspect it is because of his head injury. If it had been an injured arm or leg these cybernetic creatures would have just replaced it. But the head trauma suggests that the brain must be functioning properly for some reason or other before these beings with accept them." The doctor paused as he took everything in. "But perhaps its more than that. Oh my, what if what they are really after is more than just another body to use as a vessel." He looked up at Leela already using her as a sounding board for his thoughts even though he knew she most likely wouldn't understand them. "What if these creatures are capable of absorbing the mind of an individual even as they had taken over the body?"

Leela was confused. "I thought they had already taken over their minds."

The Doctor shook his head. "Yes and no. What I mean is I think they are able to learn everything that the individual knows when they turn him into one of them." The Doctor turned his attention back to Quinn. "This man is the one Rembrandt said who knew more about traveling to parallel worlds than the others and who built the device to go to other worlds. We have to get him out of here!"

"It's called 'sliding'," corrected Leela

"What?"

"Rembrandt called it 'sliding' to other worlds." Leela smiled. It was rare that she got to correct the Doctor.

"Anyway, we have to disconnect him from this and get him to the TARDIS."

"Will it kill him?" Leela asked.

"Possibly, but the alternative," he pointed toward the Ferengi-Borg lying on the tables, "seems much worse. Especially if they get this 'sliding' machine." He paused in retrospect. "Even worse would be if they absorbed my knowledge and skills into this… this collective."

"Collective?"

"Yes, I think I've got it now. These drones weren't just cybernetically enhanced. Their minds… their very being and intellect were absorbed into this massive structure. I should have seen it sooner." He waved his arm at one of the walls at random. "All this technology couldn't have some from one race. Instead, it is an amalgamation of different technologies merged to shape this." He looked intently at Leela to make sure his point was getting across to her. "And they must also merge the different minds together to understand and run it all."

"And if they get your mind they also get the TARDIS and are able to go through all time and space." She looked away from him and down at K-9. "Do not worry. I will not let it come to that." In her left hand she showed the Janis thorn but still was unable to meet his gaze.

The Doctor was surprised. She had a better grasp of what he was explaining than he had thought. Her tribe of the Sevateem used the Janis Thorn for hunting and warfare. Once struck with the Janis thorn paralysis is instantaneous followed shortly by death. Sometimes his primitive companion could really be remarkable, yet practical. "Yes, well, I'd rather it didn't come to that."

Leela grunted but put the poisonous thorn away for now. "So if we move him the 'drones' will attack us and we will be either killed or turned into one of them. But if we wait the 'drones' or whatever is in charge of them will have the 'sliding' technology."

"I believe I already stated that," stated the Doctor. "First we need to-" Suddenly the ship shook knocking the Doctor and Leela to the floor.

Leela quickly regained her footing and began to help the Doctor to his feet when she was again suddenly knocked off her feet. "Doctor, what is happening?"

The Doctor ignored her and instead watched the other inhabitants of the room. A few of the drones that had fallen were slowly rising to their feet and joining the ones that had maintained their footing at their consoles.

"Doctor?"

When the ship shook again the Doctor knew what he had to do. "The ship is under attack! We must act now! K-9!"

The robotic canine rolled forward. "Yes, master?"

"Do you think you can influence these drones at all?"

"Please be more specific."

"Can you distract them so that they will not pay any attention to us?"

"Unnecessary. The Borg already have their attention focused on four attacking starships."

"The 'Borg'?" inquired the Doctor.

"That is what they call themselves, master," responded K-9.

"And they won't pay us any attention while they are under attack," asked Leela.

"Affirmative, mistress."

"I see." The scarfed man quickly stood up and was almost knocked over again as the Borg vessel took another hit. "Come, Leela, we must hurry! Now is the perfect time to free Mr. Mallory."

Commander Riker walked onto the command deck of the Enterprise. His eyes immediately went to where Deanna Troi was sitting. When he noticed her back stiffen and her shoulders squaring off he knew she had noticed him entering the room even without seeing him. He also knew that she had not yet forgiven him.

Riker glared over to toward Data. He knew he shouldn't resent Data. Especially since Deanna would be able to sense his anger toward the android, but he just couldn't help it.

A week ago Deanna had caught Will kissing a visiting female dignitary. Riker had claimed that the pheromones that the dignitary's race gives had been overwhelming. Deanna was hurt and upset but willing to accept and forgive Riker. That is until a certain curious android had opened his tricorder and declared that the pheromones in question, though able to induce desire, it was by no means at a level that it could be found overwhelming. Since then Deanna has refused to speak to him except when absolutely necessary. And even worse, Data had begun questioning him on all the emotions that Riker had been going through and was trying to gather information for another paper he was trying to write. Riker sighed and went to sit at his seat next to the captain. "Anything new?"

"No. Nothing yet. We should be meeting up with the fleet at Ferantes 76 in 7 hours." Picard was a Starfleet man through and through, however, he still did not like this war with the Dominion/Cardassians. It didn't help matters that things have not been going good for the Federation lately. Currently he was leading his ship to rendezvous with another fleet for yet another attack into the Cardassian territory. The thing he hated the most was that he was finally starting to feel his age.

"So has Geordi-" Riker was interrupted by a brilliant flash of white light in which a man in a Starfleet admiral's uniform.

"Q!" exclaimed Picard.

"Ah," smiled the man as he stretched out his arms as if to receive a hug from a beloved comrade. "Mon capitain, it has been to long."

Picard stayed seated in his chair ignoring the man and his extravagant gestures. "It hasn't been long enough," muttered the captain uncharacteristically.

"Jean-Luc, ever the comedian." He smiled as he looked around at the crew who were doing their best to ignore him. They had been informed that whenever Q happen to appear to let the captain handle the situation and to try not to draw attention to themselves. "Hmm, some new faces. I see that you've gotten rid of old crab-face." Q smiled at the Tellarite standing at the security station who had a phasar pointed at him. "Still I think I preferred Worf to snout-nose here."

Riker quickly stood up and placed himself between the new security officer and Q. "Worf is working as a Klingon liaison for the Federation at Deep Space Nine."

"Ah, now that's convenient. I was going there next!" He stopped suddenly and turned back to the captain. "But I digress," he said as he sat down in Riker's chair. "Jean-Luc, we've been friends for a couple of years now."

Picard snorted.

"Yes," nodded Q, "it does feel kind of odd saying that, but it is true, nonetheless. And as your friend I find my self in the need of asking for your help."

Picard was stunned. Whether it was because the most annoying creature known to exist had called him a friend or that one of the most powerful beings known to exist just asked for his help, he wasn't sure. Perhaps it was because it was both. That and whenever Q came looking for help things became very hectic, indeed.

"Who did you irritate this time," inquired Riker. He had little love for Q and he was feeling to tense already with Deanna nearby.

"Ah, yes Will, so are you still gallivanting around sampling the females of various alien races or have you finally decided to settle down with Ms. Troi who has been waiting patiently all these years for you?"

Deanna gasped at the audacity of Q's statement.

"Now you listen here, mister!" bellowed Riker.

"Enough!" Picard glared down Riker then turned to Q. "What is it you want, Q. We are busy here."

"Yes, I was getting to that," said Q sheepishly. "You see, the Q Continuum has kind of put me on the spot."

"And…" pried Picard.

"Well, I was wandering around a little bored and I happen to come upon an interesting situation." He paused as he put on his most innocent expression. "And I encouraged it a little to make it more interesting."

Picard was annoyed and stressed. He had a lot of preparation to do with the upcoming battles with the Dominion. Q popping up on his ship and being vague about needed help did not help the situation any. "So you came here… why?"

"I had the situation entirely under control," interjected Q. "It wasn't until the Q Continuum took me away that I was unable to supersede any really dangerous situations that could come up." Q stood up and began walking around the room waving his arms as he unloaded his troubles. "But the Continuum doesn't take any of that under consideration. They say I have to be more considerate of lesser life forms. Can you believe that?" The silent glares from the captain and the crew encourage him to continue his story. "Anyway, they sent me back to fix the situation but they limited the ways I'm allowed to do it. I actually have to secure lesser life forms as my agents to fix the situation. But they have to do it of their own free will, no threats or subjecting them to my will, and they must be reasonably compensated for their efforts." He stopped his pacing and looked at the captain. "So… You'll help?"

"Q, I don't-"

"Captain, Emergency Message from Starfleet," called out the Bajoran communication officer.

"Can't you see we're talking here," Q snapped.

"On screen," commanded the captain.

"Oh, it's probably just about the Borg. Jean-Luc, we really have to talk!" pleaded Q.

Picard was startled to hear Q bring up the Borg. He was about to ask Q a question when the viewscreen began showing the message from Starfleet.

"Enterprise, this is Admiral Paris. You must return immediately to Earth. The Borg have returned and are currently orbiting the sun in the same orbit as the Earth but at a distance approximately 15 million miles from Earth. There has been no communication from them but some of the starships that were already in orbit have gone to confront them. Return as fast as you can and meet up with the fleet we are massing around the Earth. Starfleet Command. Out."

"Data, change our course to Earth immediately."

"Aye, sir," acknowledged the android.

"Now will you help me?" asked Q again.

Picard was taken aback. Hadn't Q listened to the message from Starfleet or was he just too caught up in his own problem. "Q, we are in the middle of a situation here," responded the captain.

"I know. It's the same situation. That should make it all the more easy for you to help me." Q grinned, pleased that things were starting to work out for him already.

"What?!?" exclaimed Picard.

"Are you saying that you are responsible for sending the Borg to Earth **again**?" demanded Riker.

"Simmer down, fuzz face. I had no intention of letting things get so out of hand, remember." He sat down in Riker's chair again and sighed. "But now I'm no longer in control of the situation so things could get very bad indeed." As he slouched in Riker's chair he turned to Captain Picard. "This is why we need to help each other."

"I see."

"Then it's agreed?"

"And we will be 'reasonably compensated', is that right?"

Q hesitated, "Well, yes, I can be very generous-"

"You do realize that the Federation is currently at war with the Cardassians and their allies, the Dominion?"

Q was a little setback to hear that that little skirmish had any precedence here. "Yes?"

"And if we are to fight off the Borg to the best of our ability we won't be able to defend ourselves from this other threat."

"Jean-Luc, currently I'm no longer allowed to interpose myself on other races to a great extent." He shrugged his shoulders in his embarrassment at admitting his imposed impotence. "The Q Continuum won't let me use my power to such a degree as to just end your war like that."

Picard just sat there staring at him looking determined.

Q sighed. "I suppose I could make it so that the Cardassians and Dominion are unable to enter Federation space during the duration of this situation."

"But would not the Cardassians and the Dominion be building up their fleet for a massive invasion during this time of inaction?" interjected the android from where he sat at his console.

Q scowled. "I can fix that too. Now do you agree?"

After a look at Riker and Troi he nodded. "Yes. And you will make sure this is effective immediately?"

"But of course," he said with a snap of his fingers.

"Captain."

"What is it, Data?"

"We have been instantaneously transported to Earth."

Picard glanced up to see the familiar blue planet hanging in space.

"You did say 'immediately'. But I must go now and gather more of my allies. I'll be back later to inform you of the rest of the requirements." Saying this Q disappeared in a flash as quick as he appeared.

"Did he say 'the rest of the requirements'?" Deanna asked.

"Yes, and I have to tell you," answered Picard, "I've got a bad feeling about this."

"So do we have a deal?"

"Q, I don't like you." The man paused to let this sink in.

Q sat opposite the man across the table and tried not to squirm or look resentful. The others at the table seem to be holding their breaths, except for one who was smiling in amusement and another that was just barely growling in a threatening manner.

"However, as you pointed out, it would be," the man paused for effect, "beneficial."

Q smiled. "But of course, Benjamin, I-"

"Call me 'Captain'," responded the somber man.

Q frowned. "Captain, I know that we can make this work."

"Captain, I don't like this," stated Colonel Kira.

"But I said I would keep all potentially hostile and aggressive vessels out of Bajoran space during the duration of this project. What more could you ask for?" Q responded.

Even though frightened of the power this being in front of her possessed, Kira Nerys was determined to have her say. "This station's purpose is for-"

"This station's purpose is to protect and benefit the Bajoran people," interrupted Kai Wynn. "If that can be better done by this being taking Deep Space Nine away from here and if it is the will of the Prophets than so be it." She turned to Kira as if attempting to explain her words. "Sometimes sacrifices have to be made, Nerys."

Sisko grimaced. The Kai had happened to be on the space station when Q had appeared and asked for a private meeting. She had immediately insisted that she be allowed to attend. In his vain hopes to win some support from her he had consented and allowed her. Now he regretted that decision. The Kai has long been against Starfleet having anything to do with Bajor so as far as she is concerned if Q wanted to take the station away she would let him. It would also benefit her as that she would no longer have to contend with the human Emissary who was a Starfleet officer.

"Of course, all of those in this room would have to agree to be apart of this program and the rest of those that choose to remain on the station would also have to agree to be my pawns if deemed necessary," Q added.

"Q, -" began Sisko.

"That is unacceptable!" cried the Kai.

Sisko had been about to say something similar before Kai had interrupted him. "What about what you said about sacrifices?" he reminded her.

The Kai blushed furiously. "What I meant was my people will need my guidance. With the space station gone many will panic. I need to be there to restore confidence and to turn the people's eyes to the Prophets." She glared at Sisko as if challenging him to contradict her.

"First Minister Shakaar would always be there for the Bajoran people to turn to," answered Kira. The contention that the Kai always created between Shakaar and herself was always hard for Kira to accept. Kira was very religious so she was a reluctant supporter of the Kai, however she had loved Shakaar.

Kai Wynn was startled at this upset of her plans. She wanted to be rid of Starfleet. But she had always thought she would be there to fill the void the Federation would leave behind and build a stronger Bajor. Now she had to decide if she was willing to sacrifice herself and trust the Prophets to take care of Bajor in her absence. She sighed. _I guess this is a step of faith_. "Very well. I agree to this."

Sisko sat with his hands steepled. He glanced to the rest of his people in the room. Dax. Odo. Kira. O'Brien. Worf. Bashir. Each nodded in agreement to the proposal.

"I will have to run this by the Bajoran government. After all, it is their space station," added Sisko.

"I'll encourage them to accept this proposal," interjected the Kai. "Now is there anything else?"

"Yes," frowned Sisko. "The majority of the population of Deep Space Nine will have to be evacuated."

"Except for those in this room," added Q, "and anyone on the station who chooses to remain of their own free will."

"Q,-" Sisko began.

"Sorry but my hands are tied on this." He smiled broadly at the captain. "It's a decision of the Q Continuum."

"Are you saying that I have to give everyone on this station the choice of whether or not they should evacuate Deep Space Nine?"

"Um," Q attempted to look thoughtful. "Yes."

"Well I for one have some calls to make," commented the Kai as she rose to her feet and headed to the door.

"Wish I could just get up and leave," muttered Kira.

"Well you can't but I can," said Q. "I'll be back in half an hour. See if you can have everything ready by then, Benjamin." With that, Q vanished in a flash of white light.

The attack that had caused the Borg vessel to shake had ended quite a while ago. Leela and the Doctor had been carrying the body of Quinn Mallory for over thirty minutes now trying to get him safely to the TARDIS before the Borg noticed that he was no longer there. K-9's ability to tap into the Borg network had also allowed the little mechinoid to mask their presence so far as well as the fact that Quinn was no longer on his bio-bed. But if the Borg were to learn of this subterfuge than all hope of escape would be lost.

"Doctor, to your right!"

A Borg came suddenly around a corner walking their way. Both the Doctor and Leela leaped out of his way and pressed themselves and Quinn's limp body to the wall so that the drone could walk by without interference.

"This is getting tiring," wheezed the Doctor. "That's the forty-sixth drone we've had to maneuver out of the way of."

Leela just grunted. Even though she was a warrior of the Sevateem, she was still only human. She was having a much more difficult a time than the Doctor whose alien Gallifrian metabolism made him naturally stronger and more endurable. Across one of the many walkways something caught her eye. "Doctor, what is that?"

"Eh?" He turned to where she was pointing and saw a bluish-white light emanating past walls of machinery and Borg drones. "Hmm, K-9, can your sensors tell us what that is?"

"Negative. All systems are currently being used to mask our presence from the Borg-mind."

"Oh very well. I'll go look for myself." Turning to Leela he gave her quick instructions as well as the key to the TARDIS. "You will be alright carrying him by yourself? It's only a couple hundred more yards."

Leela grunted in compliance than put Quinn on her shoulder and hurried away.

"Remarkable girl. Very resourceful and determined." He turned to K-9. "They don't make many companions like that anymore."

K-9 was silent.

"Or like you," added the Doctor

"Affirmative." K-9 wagged his tail.

"Now let's go see what this light show is all about." He stopped when he noticed there was no more lights to be seen. "Of all the luck!" he complained. Then the lights began to shine again. "Ah, we are in luck. Tally-ho, K-9."

It did not take long for the Doctor and his faithful mechanical dog to find the source of the lights. When they did they found thousands of Borgs lined up on a walkway going across one of the expanses of the ship. Every couple of minutes a beautiful vortex of bluish-white energy would form next to the walkway and twenty Borg drones would walk into it and disappear.

The Doctor's mouth fell open as the full ramifications of what the Borg were doing hit him. "K-9, we're too late!"

"Inquiry?" asked K-9.

"The invasion of the multiverse has begun!"

"You're fidgeting will not help this go any faster, Q."

Q first response was to deny that he would ever do something so beneath himself as to fidget. Fortunately he remembered who he was addressing and caught himself before any snide retort left his lips. A rare thing for Q to do. Instead he offered an apology. "I'm sorry, Kathryn. It's just this whole thing has me wound up."

"Well, I can see how countless lives hanging in the balance can do that."

"Hmm?" Q had been distracted looking out one of the bay windows of the conference room. "Oh, yes, that too." He resumed looking out the windows with sad eyes. "It just would so much easier to fix everything if they would just let me…" He shook his head in frustration.

Captain Janeway glanced at Tuvok and Chakotay. Chakotay had a smirk that he was trying to desperately to not lose control of. Tuvok, however, sat as still and ridged as if he were a stern parent listening to a wayward, immature child.

"Perhaps the restrictions of your powers was meant to encourage you to develop an appreciation for those less able than yourself," commented the Vulcan.

"And maybe your lack of a sense of humor means you should try harder to appreciate a good joke!" snapped Q.

"Q! That is uncalled for!" said Janeway.

"Look. You've heard our terms," interjected Chakotay. "We want to return to the Alpha quadrant. Earth to be specific. We won't settle for less."

Turning to Captain Janeway again and ignoring the other two, Q once more tries to appeal to her. "But think of all the places you could explore if you stayed. The cultures, the planets. Oh Kathryn, there is so much you could learn. So many people you could help."

"Q, we've been out here for years already. My main concern and duty all along has been bringing my crew home safely to the Alpha quadrant where they belong. You know that."

"But things will get so boring when you get home. You'll miss all this!"

"All good things must come to an end, Q."

"Humph! Very well."

Everyone turned as the door opened and Neelix, smiling, entered carrying five different PADDs. "Sorry to take so long. It was taking so long that I finally had to scrounge up some help to get peoples responses. Naomi was very good at tracking down some of the more hard to find people." Placing the PADDs down in front of Q, the Talaxian stepped back his hands up and down his sides. "You'll notice on one of those that I, myself, signed up to help you in your efforts to straighten out this mess of yours."

"Oh, I'm sure that'll help," snorted Q.

"Q!"

Q sighed and turned back to Neelix. "I'm sure that you could be of some help."

Neelix's smile was very strained by now. "Yes, well, I have some Boragwer roots that should be done simmering in the kitchen by now. I should go see to them."

With Neelix gone Janeway turned to Q. "That will not happen again! Do you understand me?"

"What did I do?" exclaimed an exasperated Q.

"You belittled his offer to help you in your time of need."

"But really, Kathryn, what can he do?"

"If that is how you feel than why are you here? Oh, yes! You need our help. Well my crew is willing to help you. Some have even volunteered, like Neelix and myself, to risk our lives to fix this mess that you created."

"I had things under control until-"

"Don't start that again!" Janeway stopped to regain her breath and her calm. Yelling down a self-proclaimed omnipotent being can really frazzle your nerves. "You will treat my crew with the same respect you treat me. Are we clear on that?"

"Very well, Kathryn," responded Q meekly.

Janeway exhaled the breath she hadn't realized she had been holding. A quick glance at Tuvok got her a nod from the Vulcan. Chakotay was beginning to chuckle out loud. "So we've met all of the Q continuums requirements?"

After a brief look at one of the PADDs Q nodded. "Yes. All of the command crew signed as well as a large percentage of the rest of your crew." Putting down the PADD he added, "I'll look at the rest of these later." Rising to his feet, he walked over to the window looking out into space. "It's finally time to bring everyone together."

There was a bright flash of white light and then…

Janeway looked out to what was on the other side beyond Q. "Is that.. is it really..?"

"Earth!" proclaimed Q. "Now the hard part begins."


	3. Chapter Three

The Earth hung in space like a blue marble glued onto a black backdrop. Yet the earth was not alone. On one side of it hung a small white moon covered with craters. And on the other side hung a massive space station not of terrestrial design. On an even closer look of the planet would reveal an increasing number of starships just coming into orbit.

Aboard the Cardassian built space station that now belonged to the Bajoran government activity was booming. With the majority of Deep Space Nine's crew gone, Starfleet personnel were being transported to the station and being shown their new stations for the duration of the Borg invasion. Many of the Starfleet cadets had also entered onto the station to help organize and set up a meeting and debriefing area for Starfleet.

Ensigns moved like ants in Quark's bar slowly but determinedly shaping it into something that would better suit their needs. In one corner Morn was helping a few of the female ensigns move some of the gambling tables out of the way while he flirted with them. Leeta, one of the few Bajorans to remain on the station, was helping to store away some of the items of the bar that just seemed to be getting in the way. Rom was busy installing some monitors and accessories while Chief O'Brien instructed some of the new technicians how to interface with the amalgamation of Cardassian-Federation-Bajoran technology that made up Deep Space Nine.

At first Quark had been adamantly against them using his bar as their command center or war room, that is until they informed him how he was to be reasonably compensated for his troubles. After he found out how well he was to be compensated he went out of his way to help the ensigns set up the room to look more official.

"I'm surprised to see you being so generous… and helpful."

Quark turned to see Dr. Bashir behind him. Wiping the sweat from his forehead with a clear bar rag he answered the doctor, "Oh, I can be generous and helpful," he said as he broke out in a grin. "For a price!"

"And Starfleet managed to find that price."

"Yep, now are you just going to stand there and talk or are you going to help us get ready for the opening conference?"

It was Bashir's turn to smile. "Sorry, Quark. I have a meeting with Voyager's holographic doctor to correlate various medical procedures relating to Borg interfaces."

"Why don't you just download the data you need?"

"Ah, that's the interesting thing. Voyager's holographic medical program has become too complex to do downloads of information quickly. Basically he's become sentient. All the information has begun to be interwoven and harder for us to just pluck what we want out."

"Big deal."

"Dr. Beverly Crusher is going to be there, too," added Bashir.

"You're not going to be happy until you get to disassemble a Borg drone yourself, are you?" Quark shook his head not being able to comprehend what it was that the Hew-mon found so interesting.

"One of the main reasons I asked to be stationed at Deep Space Nine was because of the opportunities to be on the cutting edge of new medical procedures. The chance to take a Borg drone and return it to its previous state of individuality is really-"

"Boring. You won't find me going out there risking my neck to save some Borg whose only purpose in life is to assimilate me as soon as he gets an opportunity."

Bashir was puzzled. "Quark, why are you here? Why didn't you get off at Bajor when you had a chance?"

"Are you kidding? And abandon my bar? And what about other opportunities that I would only be able to take advantage of here?" responded Quark

"But what about the danger?"

"Starfleet took care of the Borg the last time they came to Earth. They'll do it again," answered Quark with a tone of faith that he really didn't have.

Bashir looked at Quark with alarm. "You do know that by staying on the station you voluntarily became an agent for Q to use against the Borg, don't you?"

Quark slowly put down the chair he had been moving. "What are you talking about?"

Bashir grimaced. "Quark. I think you had better sit down for this."

The Promenade of Deep Space Nine was unusually empty thanks to the evacuation that had taken place before the space station had been transported to Earth. Odo noticed with a slight smile that there was still some activity over at Quark's.

Leading the three delegates from Voyager through the space station had been interesting. Even Captain Janeway had taken to gawking and pointing out anything that she was familiar with - which wasn't as much as she had first thought considering it was a Cardassian made, Bajoran occupied, Federation run station.

"I can't believe we're really back," commented Chakotay to Tom Paris. "Only this morning we were in the Delta quadrant and now here we are orbiting Earth."

"Sure," answered Paris, "but it took a Borg attack and an act of Q to get us here! And it isn't over yet."

"Trust you to look to the bright side," joked Chakotay.

"Hey, that's me. Mister Sunny Disposition," he laughed. He waited for his commander to add something but Chakotay said nothing. It took him a moment to notice that something had caught Chakotay attention.

Leaning against one of the many shops in the Promenade watching all the activity around Quark's bar was a Cardassian. Noticing their approach, Garak nodded a greeting to Odo and gave the three Voyager crewmembers his warmest smile.

Passing the reptilian alien, Paris attempted to resume small talk. "I guess more things have changed around here than I thought."

"What? Garak?" Chakotay shook his head. "No. Garak's lived here years before the Caretaker happened to trap us in the Delta quadrant. But seeing him did get me to thinking."

Paris noticed the unease that had come upon his friend and was immediately concerned. "What? Am I missing something?"

Chakotay had to laugh. "You seem to forget. Before I became a commander on Voyager - when we were in the Delta quadrant - I was the captain of a Maquis ship."

"So you're thinking about the Cardassian government who wiped out the Maquis while we were on the other side of the universe."

He stopped briefly to look at the station around him. "No. I dealt with that already." A while back the Voyager had found an abandoned far-reaching alien relay station. They had managed to send the doctor's holographic program all the way to the Alpha quadrant and inform Starfleet that they were still alive and trying to come home. When the holographic doctor had returned through the relay system before it had been destroyed, he had brought with him messages from loved ones and news of the Federation. Some of the news had included the utter decimation of the Maquis by the Cardassians.

"I don't understand. What is bothering you then?"

"Starfleet. How are they going to feel about half a ship of Maquis suddenly appearing on their doorstep?"

Paris grimaced. Then thought a moment. "Well, I can always see if I can get my father to speak up for you. Without the help of your crew, Voyager would have never returned. And besides, lots of people follow the lead of Admiral Paris."

"I can see him now," said Chakotay.

"Yep. Right in front of a group of delegates expressing the thanks the Federation owes the Maquis," chuckled Paris.

"No. I mean I can see your father over there."

"What?" he exclaimed as he looked over to where his friend had been pointing. And there was his father walking right toward him. Luckily Captain Janeway was the first to greet the Admiral giving Tom a very needed moment to compose himself.

"I see that you've made some changes in the uniforms," Janeway cheerfully commented.

The admiral smiled diplomatically on cue. "Starfleet likes to keep a lot of people employed, including tailors. But personally I think I prefer your uniforms. It might be prejudice, but I always liked the display of colors and right now I really like the way it looks on my son. Always knew he would look good in a Starfleet uniform." Turning to his son he stretched out his hand. "How are you doing, son."

"I've been fine, sir," replied Tom.

"I wish we had time to talk just now but this meeting is about to start and-"

"And the Borg are just a couple million miles from Earth, I know," his son responded with a sigh.

One of the admiral's eyebrows rose as he took in the sight of his son and tried to assess the changes that had occurred in him during the time he had been away. "We'll have dinner tonight and catch up on the last few years."

"I think you will be surprised to find out what an able body Starfleet crewmember your son has turned out to be," added Captain Janeway.

The admiral nodded to Janeway. "Yes, I would like to hear about that. I always knew he could be one. It's nice to know that he finally decided to do so himself."

Tom blushed in anger. All the old resentments and frustrations were quickly coming back into play and would take resume their course between the two of them if he didn't do something to derail them. "Would it be alright if I brought my fiancée to dinner tonight?"

Surprised, the admiral took a new look at his son. _Maybe he has changed. Maybe the Delta quadrant did him some good_, he pondered. "Yes. Bring her around. I'd like to meet the woman who could get you to consider settling down." Taking a look at Quark's he knew it was time to start. "I have to go see a few more people before we start, which will be in about five minutes. You might want to go find some seats." Then he turned and left.

"So, Tom," Chakotay came up behind him and put a hand on his shoulder. "When were you going to tell us that you and B'Elanna were engaged?"

"I was wondering that myself," added Janeway.

"Actually," Tom hesitated, "I had planned to do it before we ever got to the Alpha quadrant. But things have been moving a little quickly lately so I'll just have to ask her right after this meeting." Looking innocently into their stunned faces he added, "Better late than never, right?"

Chakotay shook his head. "I'd love to see B'Elanna's face when you propose to her and then tell her you two are having dinner with your father, the admiral."

"Oh, I don't know about that," added Janeway, "I'd rather see the admiral's face when he learns that his to-be daughter-in-law is not only a former Maquis but half-Klingon as well."

"Oh sure, laugh at my troubles," Tom joked. Suddenly he stopped and cocked his head. "Does anyone else hear that?"

Chakotay was going to tease him for trying to change the subject we he began to hear something as well. Individuals all over the Promenade stopped as the metallic groaning sound became more audible. Then a tall blue rectangular box slowly came into existence near the entrance to Quark's bar.

All the Starfleet personnel, including the three Voyager crewmembers drew their phasers. Odo, who had quietly dismissed himself from the Voyager crew when Admiral Paris arrived, quickly came to the forefront of the activity. He was still the head of security for this station and he didn't like having so many phasers worn by people who were not apart of his security team. Especially ones who were already leery of Changlings. "All right, everybody. Take it easy." He did a quick walk around the object while everybody kept his or her phasers trained on it. "Odo to Captain Sisko."

"Right behind you, Constable."

Odo glanced over his shoulder at Captain Sisko as he emerged from Quark's. "You saw?"

"Most of it."

Odo noticed Nog just left of the Captain doing a tricorder scan of the object. "What are you getting, Nog."

The young Ferengi ensign shook his head. "It doesn't make much sense but it seems to be some type of temporal anomaly."

"Hey, I've seen this before."

Odo turned to one of the Voyager crewmembers that he had been escorting to Quark's. "Then what is it?"

Tom lowered his phaser as he walked closer to the blue foreign object. "It doesn't make sense. I saw it in one of the holo-novels I was running on the holodeck." He placed his hand on the box and was surprised to feel it giving of a humming vibration. He looked back at Odo, and then past him to his father standing in Quark's doorway. "It's a police phone booth used in the early twentieth century in Britain." At his father's skeptical look Tom pointed to the top of the box. "It even says so up there."

Just then the door to the 'phone booth' opened up and a man wearing a floppy hat and scarf walked out. The curly haired man gave them a wide grin. "Hello. Sorry to interrupt but would you mind helping us with a medical emergency?"

"What's the problem? I'm a doctor," called out a tired voice from the back.

Odo turned to this new interruption only to be stunned by the sight of the oldest human he had ever seen. He was even more surprised to see that he was wearing a Starfleet admiral's uniform.

"Admiral McCoy, maybe we should-" began Lt. Barclay.

"Nonsense, help me over there," spat the elderly man.

"Um, well, ye-yes sir!" The admiral had arrived by his own personal shuttle alone. Upon entering the station he commandeered the first member of Starfleet that he had come upon to help him walk about. Unfortunately for Lt. Barclay that is just what happened to be him.

As the elderly man and younger man who was helping him made their way forward, another figure came out of the TARDIS carrying an unconscious man. Leela gently laid Quinn down on the deck of the station then took a stand of defiance against all the people aiming phasers at her.

"Now, now, Leela. Go help Rembrandt so he can get medical attention as well."

Leela nodded and withdrew back into the TARDIS ignoring the weapons pointed at her.

"Who are you?" Odo asked the scarfed individual.

"Yes, I am. But you can call me the Doctor."

"If you are a doctor then why aren't you already treating this man," growled McCoy.

The Doctor looked at the elderly man and was pleased to notice the intelligence that was displayed in his eyes. Smiling, he answered, "Because I'm not that kind of doctor."

"What are you a doctor of?" asked Sisko.

"Serendipity," replied the Doctor. "And who might you be?"

"Captain Benjamin Sisko. I run this space station."

Admiral McCoy grunted as Barclay helped him kneel down before his first patient in more years than he would care to count. "Well I'm an admiral and an ambassador, but right now I'm a medical doctor," he wheezed. "What do you know of his condition?"

"Mostly there's the head trauma." At McCoy's scowl he added, "but you probably already noticed that. However, there might also be some trouble with whatever those Borg chaps were injecting into him."

"You were on the Borg ship?" demanded Sisko.

"Just came from there. Not very social, are they?"

"You don't want them to be social," he answered.

Admiral 'Bones' McCoy grunted at the pain his knees resting on hard floor was causing. Even though he was thrilled at the prospect of administering to the injured man before him he knew he no longer had the ability to treat him effectively. Looking up at a concerned Captain Sisko McCoy conceited defeat again to his aged form. "Get him to Sickbay and hurry!"

"Sisko to Sickbay."

"Bashir here," responded the doctor of a communication relay.

"I have a medical beam out for you. Head trauma. Set up a containment field and look for the possibility of Borg nanobyte contamination."

"Yes sir!" piped Bashir excitedly.

Sisco shook his head. Then he noticed Leela helping another man limp out of the TARDIS. "You must have been as tight as sardines in there."

The Doctor shrugged his shoulders. "It doesn't bother us." Then he noticed Quinn dissolving into energy. Looking up he asked, "Teleporters I hope."

"Yes," he answered. Then he looked over at Admiral Paris waiting by Quark's door. Most admirals would push themselves forward and demand to know right away what was going on. But this was Sisko's station and evidently the admiral trusted him to be able to deal with the matter and inform him of what is going on later. Sisko respected that.

"Now if you will come with me maybe we can sort this whole thing out."

"Capitol idea." Turning to Leela with a wink, "Leela, go with Rembrandt. It would be good for him to have a familiar face around."

"Yes Doctor." She was holding the injured man up by one of his arms over her shoulder. And she didn't seem to want any help from the uniformed men and women.

Sisko didn't want Leela to drag the injured man all the way to Sickbay. Bashir would never let him here the end of it. But Sisko knew a stubborn aggressive person when he saw one so he decided to be diplomatic about it. Noticing a disgruntled Worf coming up late to the commotion, he made a motion for him to come over. He had been visiting some of his friends that had arrived with the Enterprise. And now the warrior was kicking himself for neglecting his duties. "Worf, I'd like you to help this lady bring her friend to Sickbay."

"Yes sir." Worf immediately went over to help the young lady with her human cargo.

Leela, noticing Worf's formidability and warrior nature, was willing to let him help. In all her travels with the Doctor, this was one of the few beings with which she felt she could relate.

Meanwhile the Doctor had whistled for K-9 and locked the TARDIS after the mechanical hound had exited. "Come, K-9. We have work to do," he said as he followed Sisko into Quark's bar. K-9 followed his master, wagging his antenna tail.

Q was becoming extremely antsy. Ever since he had gotten Deep Space Nine to Earth and everybody to Deep Space Nine he had been waiting for them to have their meeting they insisted on having. And it was taking forever. First the time-lord shows up and stops the meeting from starting but fortunately he was able to provide information about the Borg that confirmed what Q had been telling them all along. Plus, he had two of the Sliders with him who had started this whole mess. It was only now, hours later after the meeting had started that Q realized that they had no idea how precious a commodity time was just then.

"Well look what the cat dragged in."

Q felt a shiver go through his spine. Looking up confirmed his worse suspicions. "Guinan," he groaned. "I didn't bring you here." Then he had a couple thousand thoughts. "Why are you here?" he asked suspiciously.

She smiled sweetly and pointed up at Captain Picard addressing everyone about some of the lesser-known facts about the Borg. Seven of Nine was at his side adding side bits of information from her years of experience. "They are Starfleet's experts on the Borg."

Q frowned. "So?"

"I'm Starfleet's expert on you."

Q suppressed a shudder. "I think they should add Captain Janeway and Captain Picard to that list."

"Picard already has enough on his plate dealing with the Borg but I'll consult with Captain Janeway."

"Thank you," said Q meekly.

"Don't you ever thank me!" barked Guinan. A few people turned their heads but quickly turned back to the review Picard was giving when they realized that someone was yelling at the omnipotent troublemaker. Guinan ignored them and continued to tear into Q. "I will never forget what you did and I will never forgive you for it, you pathetic clown!" Having had her say she quickly walked to the other side of Quark's bar.

Q watched her go then noticed Picard giving him a cold glare. "I wonder if this can get any worse?" Q muttered.

It hadn't been as bad as Q had expected. After a couple of commentaries by various Starfleet scientists, Q had been asked to brief them on the missions they were to go on and any specifics they could expect.

"As I understand it so far, the Borg have been sending thousands of Borgs to various parallel dimensions of Earth during different time periods thanks to the technology of the Sliders after they had a run in with our new friend, the Doctor."

"Now wait a minute!" The Doctor jumped from his seat. "That was all accidental! From what I hear you are the one who informed these Borg creatures about the Sliding technology just for the fun of it."

Q was about to retort but Admiral Paris stepped in. "Settle down. This is not a trial. We are here to fix the problem. Currently, the cause is irrelevant. Do I make myself clear." The three admirals sat at a table off to the side just next to the bar where Q was now standing. Admiral Paris sat in the middle with a cup of rare Zaldian tea that Quark had found for him. Admiral "Bones" McCoy sat in a chair to his right lightly dozing from time to time. Barclay sat nervously right behind McCoy to keep him informed of any important parts he may have napped through and to get anything the admiral needed. To Admiral Paris's left sat Admiral Ryvid Kriing, a Zakdorian master strategist who was currently just sitting and absorbing the information as it presented itself to him.

"I have a question," interjected Tuvok as he stood up. "Why would the Borg be traveling to different time periods? Would not travel to other parallel worlds be more than enough for them?"

Q was about to respond when someone else did. "I would gather that that would be because these Slider fellows bounced off my TARDIS sending them way off their usual path," added the Doctor sipping one of the drinks provided by Quark. "Then there is the fact that the device that opens up these gateways between worlds is broken. I think the Borg chaps have the technology or at least part of it but they probably don't know what settings to use for it."

"So they're shooting in the dark?" asked Tom Paris who was sitting a few seats away.

"Exactly," answered the Doctor with another pearly grin. "These thousands that are being sent out are probably more scouts that anything else. Most likely one of the first things they will try to do when they arrive will be to gather resources to construct something to send a message back here to the 'mother' ship. A beacon most likely so that they can establish continual travel from there to here." Turning back to Q he inquired with a smile, "Isn't that about right?"

A stony-faced Q just nodded. "Now as I was saying before I was so rudely interrupted."

As Q told of his part in the problem concerning the Borg and the forced stipulation that had been placed on him while he worked to correct the matter, Captain Picard's thought wandered to one of many screens that had been erected around the bar to correlate communication and the transmission of information during this Borg encounter. On one of the screen's he could see the Borg cube floating in the void of space. Floating around the mechanical block were metallic pieces flotsam and jetsam that had just hours ago been four Starfleet vessels. U.S.S. Bounty. U.S.S. Challenger. U.S.S. Hector. U.S.S. Crazy Horse. All had been reduced to rubble. The crews had died valiantly against incredible odds. Those that managed to reach the escape pods suffered a worse fate as the Borg tractor beams captured them for assimilation.

"Captain?" Deanna Troi whispered to him.

"I'm alright, counselor," he whispered back. "Just doing some thinking."

It had been Admiral Paris that had explained to him what had happened. Admiral Klinder had been the first person of authority to receive news of the presence of the Borg and had immediately led the four Starfleet vessels around Earth against the invaders. His speculation of the reason the Borg had not immediately attacked due to some mechanical problem that had occurred during transit was flimsy at best. He had insisted that Starfleet had to attack while the Borg was still vulnerable. But Picard knew that the real reason Admiral Klinder had attacked the Borg was to be remembered. Admiral Klinder had been dying and had been diagnosed with a little less than a year to live. Admirals that die in battle were remembered more than admirals that die sick in bed.

"I'm angry, yet tired, Deanna. But I know this venture has just begun." He leaned over to her and whispered, "Am I getting too old for all this?"

Deanna smiled. "No. And I doubt that Admiral McCoy thinks so either," she said indicating the elderly man at the admirals table who had just snorted himself awake. With a wicked gleam in her eye she turned back to her captain. "But if you want I'm sure I could talk the Admiral into giving you a physical just to make sure."

"Not likely," muttered the captain.

The counselor giggled. "Maybe you would at least begin to appreciate the yearly physicals that Beverly schedules you for."

"I doubt that, too," he replied. But he did manage to smile. He briefly looked across the aisle to where Riker was sitting next to Data. He had the urge to ask Deanna what the problem was between her and Riker but quickly squelched it. He never felt good about intruding into other peoples private matters, even if they meant as much to him as the Commander and the Ship's Counselor did. But still there had to be something he could do.

Suddenly aware of a new presence coming up to him on his side he quickly let his thoughts of Riker and Troi away. Beaming down at him in what Picard assumed was a smile was a Ferengi who Picard recognized as the proprietor of the bar Starfleet was currently using. "Can I help you?"

"Your drink, sir. Earl Grey tea," answered Quark as he brought the tray he had closer to the captain.

The captain looked at the cup of tea suspiciously before picking it up. "I didn't order a drink."

"I know," said the Ferengi. "It's on the house."

Picard froze just as he was going to take a sip. He looked carefully into the tea. Seeing nothing he sniffed it. Perplexed, he looked up to see the Ferengi still standing there. "Yes?"

"Oh, it can wait. Please, finish your drink, captain." Quark stood there holding the tray in front of him watching the captain.

"Oh, it will not wait," replied the captain as he put down his cup of tea. He had had too many dealings with the Ferengi and little of it had been good.

Quark, seeing an opportunity, took it. Bending down on one knee so as to get a little closer to the captain Quark began his appeal. "It was all a misunderstanding, you see. I didn't know about the clause concerning the station, but I remembered something I heard about you being his friend," said the Ferengi as he pointed to Q. "If you can convince him to let me go I will make it well worth your while."

Picard was surprised at the whole situation. All around him heads were turning to find out what was going on. As the Ferengi continued to try to buy his help Picard's surprise began to turn to embarrassment and anger. Seeing the Changling head of security coming to take Quark away Picard decided to wave Odo back so he could find out what the Ferengi was talking about.

"Do you mind?" commented Q. He stood when he had been addressing the assembly of people about all the certainties they could expect and the little information he had about where the Borg could have possibly gone, but now his audience were all looking at this curious sight.

"All right, what is this about?" Picard asked the Ferengi.

Quark looked a little surprised at all the attention that was suddenly focused on him. "It's like I said. This has all been a simple misunderstanding. I'm not supposed to be here. You see, I didn't know that whoever stayed on the station when he," he pointed to Q, "teleported the station here would have to become part of some suicide squad against the Borg."

"Yes, I can't see you joining such a heroic effort," comment Picard. "So?"

"So when I found out about it I naturally tried to transport myself off the station but the transporters wouldn't work, so I tried a shuttle craft but it wouldn't power up when I was aboard," he sighed, "then I remembered that you where his friend," and Quark pointed to Q, "so I came to ask you to ask him to let me go." At the completion of his monologue Quark folded his arms and asked, "So, how much?"

Picard disregarded the annoying Ferengi and instead focused his attention on Q. "Is what he said true? We can't leave this station?"

Q's puzzled looked was answered by a flash of light and a man appearing behind the bar. "Q?" inquired Q.

"What is this, Q?" Sisko deep voice demanded an answer. He had been sitting on the sides listening to all the talk by Q and even Picard and Quark, but if there was going to be any action on his station he was going to be the one on top of it.

Q sighed and sat down on one of the barstools near Morn. Gesturing his hand at the new arrival who was wearing an identical copy of the Starfleet admiral's uniform that Q was wearing he replied with a heavy sigh, "This is Q, too."

"I don't understand," said a puzzled Sisko.

Captain Janeway quickly stood up. She half-heartedly wanted to just step back and watch everything for a change but she had seen the troubled look in Q's eye when he first appeared on her ship and she knew that the clock must be ticking. "Let's not get caught up into that again." Turning to face when the three admirals sat and giving most of the people in the room to see who was talking she began to address the motley assembly. "Look, all of Q's kind call themselves Q. So our Q we will call Q and this new Q can be called Q2."

"Thank you, Kathryn," said a grateful Q. "That was very… efficient."

"I thought you said we had to hurry with this?" asked Janeway with a smug smile.

"Yes, you do," responded the new arrival.

"What are you doing here!" demanded Q.

The Q behind the counter of the bar smiled enigmatically. "Oh, I think you can guess."

Q's eyes went wide with horror. "They wouldn't!"

The other Q just nodded and smiled.

"But you are just about as impulsive and troublesome as I am!"

"Exactly!" exclaimed the second Q happily. "That is why I am here. Our peers hope that I will learn something from this trouble you going through. What exactly I'm not sure but I was bored so why not."

From the side of the room there was a cough. Then Admiral Paris stood from where he was sitting. "Excuse me, gentlemen. But-"

"Contrary to our appearance we are not men," snapped Q.

Admiral Paris's confidence wavered slightly but realizing by standing up he was already committed to do something so he proceeded. "Gentle beings," he amended, "since we all seem to be involved in this matter-" He paused for a breath and for the rest of his nerve to catch up to him. "-it would be nice if you would enlighten us as to what is going on."

It was the nod from Janeway that made Q willing to comply with the admiral's request. With a sigh and an exasperated shrug of his shoulders Q began to explain. "Evidently the Q Continuum seems to believe that I need watching as I do their punishment detail. And for some reason they thought he would be the best one to do that."

Q2's outfit changed in a bright flash to that of a referee's black and white uniform including a metal whistle hanging around his neck. Grinning at Q's pouting look he turned to Admiral Paris. "As you can guess the Continuum have deemed it necessary to see that Q abides by their instructions to the letter. They felt it would be best to have someone here to monitor this new situation just so if any of the stipulations put on Q needed amending." Chuckling at Q's face turning purple he added, "As for the particular reason as to why me," Q2 broke into a full blow belly laugh. When he stopped he was surprised to find tears in his eyes. Wiping the liquid off with his sleeve he continued. "Then there is also the fact that the Continuum selected me in particular because they find me as almost as much a problem as Q. They are hoping that I won't be so apt to getting into trouble while I am having fun after having a close-up view of what Q is going to be going through." Giggling at Q's silent rage Q2 added, "If I had known what this was all about I would have just volunteered," he teased. "Oh, yes, in regards to the large lobed creature's earlier comment - anyone that comes on board the Enterprise, Voyager, or Deep Space Nine will automatically become pawns for Q to use in his endeavors for fixing this mess. No exceptions and no leaving."

Looks of concern began filling the faces of some of the Starfleet personnel that had beamed up from Earth. Admiral Bones was the only one smiling.

"Daughter, where are you? Why weren't you there to greet your mother when I came on board?"

Heads all around turned to take in the sight of Ambassador Lwaxana Troi and her seven-foot bald servant standing behind her, Mr. Homm.

"Mother!" exclaimed Deanna.

"That feels wonderful, Doc. Thanks." Rembrandt swiveled his legs over to the side of the table he had been leaning on and slowly tested his weight on his injured leg. When no pain flashed across his leg he tried tapping his foot on the floor at first softly then harder.

Doctor Pulaski grinned. "I doubt if it is going to suddenly fall off or anything."

Rembrandt felt like a little kid and even began a little tap dance routine. Stopping a little out of breath he held out his hand and shook Kate Pulaski's. "I can't believe it. All I feel is a slight twinge when the break was. You're a miracle worker, Doc!"

Pulaski blushed at the praise. "Actually you should thank this Doctor fellow you were telling me about. Whatever it was that he gave you seems to have cemented the cracks in your leg and ribs with calcium before you even came into Sickbay. All I did was mend some the strained ligaments and knit one-half of a torn tendon back together." She smiled at Rembrandt. "That and have the dermal generator close some cuts and heal your bruises."

"Trust me, Doc, what you did was great." The one-time singer flashed her a grin. "Even if it was only a tendon, a couple ligaments, cuts and bruises."

"Well, you're welcome." It had been a while since she had had the privilege of treating such a charmer. "Though I would love to get my hands on one of those pills you took. Whatever they were they were truly remarkable. Some of the residual properties than I scanned that were still in your system were amazing as they were baffling."

"You could always ask the Doctor. The worst he could do is say 'no'." responded Leela from where she had taken position at the door that she refused to let close so she could also observe other doctors working over the prone body of Quinn Mallory.

A pained look crossed the slider's face and he quickly walked through the open door leaving the two women abruptly.

"I'll have to do that," replied Doctor Pulaski to a bemused Leela.

The doctor followed Leela into the next room when Rembrandt stood at the edge of a containment field looking over at his injured friend. Standing over the Quinn's body Pulaski could see the former Borg drone Seven of Nine and the holographic doctor from Voyager, Doctor Crusher from the Enterprise, and a very enthusiastic Doctor Bashir. She had been one of the many Starfleet personnel to transport up from Earth to fill in for the station's depleted ranks. When the two patients had originally come in Pulaski was just familiarizing herself with the station's Sickbay. Bashir had immediately involved himself with the first patient leaving the second patient for Pulaski. Now that her patient was better she found herself as a spectator.

Stepping next to the leather clad woman the first thing Pulaski noticed was the body odor. Pulaski could see that Leela was in athletic shape and would no doubt turn the heads of many the crewmembers, however, her recent exertions of lugging Rembrandt and Quinn around had definitely left her smelling less than appealing.

Kate was surprised to note the hand that Leela put on the shoulder of the young Human/K'tarian hybrid girl that had come in earlier with the former Borg drone. Evidently the woman in leather and the youngster from Voyager had become fast friends while she had been working on treating Rembrandt.

Kate was startled when Rembrandt reached over and took her hand in his. "Thank you," he whispered with tears in his eyes. "For me and my friend."

Pulaski always felt a little awkward at moments like this. Putting on her best compassionate face with a smile she said, "Just glad I could help."

"Mother!" exclaimed Deanna, "Why!?!"

Lwaxana Troi slowly moved about the room taking in the view of the luxurious Ambassador quarters provided on Deep Space Nine. "I see that they still haven't added the improvements I suggested," commented Lwaxana as she ignored her daughter.

"Mother! This is serious!"

"Mr. Homm. Those flowers or whatever they are would look better as a centerpiece over there."

"Mother." Deanna poured everything she could into that tone. All her frustration and anger. And Fear. As a powerful Betazoid her mother could not help but notice it. As her daughter she knew it could not be ignored.

The older Troi hung her head and sighed. "Odo explained the situation to me when he escorted us here."

Deanna was surprised. Her mother often read other peoples minds indiscriminately, however Odo was head of security.

"Oh, it wasn't like that, daughter. Odo was just thoughtfully laying out what had been transpiring here, that is all. Sort of filling in the gaps."

Deanna was puzzled. "I didn't know that you knew Odo."

Lwaxana smiled. "Let's just say that if things had worked out a little differently he might have been your new father."

Deanna's mind balked at the thought of picturing the stoic Changling with his stern attitude wooing her mother.

Lwaxana continued to pace around the room. "Mr. Homm, let's try those vases over by the door." Stopping to take another look she shook her head. "Better make that outside the door."

"Mother!"

"Dear daughter, can't you see that mother is busy."

Deanna snorted. "What I see is that you are trying to avoid this problem we are in," she commented as she quickly scoped up the two bluish-purple vases out of Mr. Homm's hands, "with silly distractions like redecorating and bringing up old loves."

She sighed. "And what would you have me do."

"Mother, what I meant was-"

"No, really. What would you have me do? Really?" Her volume began to rise and she began pacing around the room at a faster pace. "I really made a mess of things this time. What was I thinking? Coming out here while there was a Borg cube nearby. I knew it wasn't safe but I just had to come."

Deanna was unsure of what to say. Her mother had always been an emotional woman even while still having control over her emotions. Now she seemed close to loosing all that control. "Mother, I'm sure everything will be-" Lwaxana Troi collapsed on the coach and began crying uncontrollably. Deanna rushed to her mother's side and began trying to sooth her.

"All I wanted to do was come see my wandering daughter. Was that really so much to ask? Was it?" She broke into more tears. "And that dreadfully Q person is here, too."

Deanna easily remembered the time her mother and Q had met. Q had taken to flirting with her mother, even courting her to the point of sharing his powers with her. In the end it had turned out Q had been only setting her up for a fall. All of his overtures had been simply to mock her latter. But he had been surprised when he found he couldn't take his powers away from Lwaxana. He was even more surprised when she began using those powers against him. Deanna began to chuckle as she remembered the terror in Q's eyes when her mother had turned the lower half of his body into a tree firmly embedded in the floor.

(These events happened in the Star Trek book -Q-in-Law)

Lwaxana, being a Betazoid, saw the image running in Deanna's mind. "I had things well in hand, dear."

"Mother! You had a chainsaw in your hands!"

The two looked at each other and collapsed in a fit of laughter.

"Look at them. Not one of them really has an idea of what we are up against." Quark gripped the railing he was holding on to just a little tighter as if he could just squeeze his problem away.

"They are trying the best they can, brother."

Quark gave his brother a look of disdain. "They're scared. Even that Q fellow. And he's the one with all the power." He looked down from the second level of his bar at Q. "And he's the one who has the best idea as to what is out there."

Rom was silent. He always found it awkward whenever he saw his brother scared. Most of the time it was Rom who was scared and Quark would look after him one way or another. But when Quark was scared- well Rom just didn't know what to do even though the awkwardness of it left Rom feeling less scared himself.

"There's just got to be something we can do!"

Rom was startled that his brother said 'we'. Usually Quark just focused on looking out for himself except for those rare occasions when things get very dangerous. Quark may never admit it but he loved his brother. It was the main reason that Quark looked after Rom all these years. That and making profits at Rom's expense. "Maybe we can find something to use from the Rules of Acquisition?"

Quark was taken aback. "Rom, that may have been the smartest thing I've ever heard you say."

Rom just grinned at the praise.

Quark began pacing the walkway running various Rules through his head. "Let's see. We are already practicing the Seventh Rule and keeping our ears open so-"

"Brother, you always say that what you hear is meaningless if you can't do something with the information."

Quark stood stunned. "Twice in one day. Or as the Hew-mons would say 'Out of the mouth of babes'."

"But Quark, Starfleet won't let you transmit anything you get from this meeting. They-"

"I wasn't planning on that. I was thinking of what could be learned on these missions Q will be sending people on."

Rom was confused. "Then what?"

Quark grinned. "The Ninth Rule of Acquisition."

Rom remained confused.

A look of disgust crossed Quark's face. "Are you sure you are my brother?" Quark quickly continued before Rom could defend himself "The Ninth Rule goes like this. 'Opportunity plus instinct equals profit'. Q and the Borg have provided the opportunity now all we have to do is use my instinct to bring in the profit."

Rom just smiled at this. His brother has said 'we' again.

Q threw his arms up in exasperation. "How am I supposed to accomplish anything with the rules you are frivolously making?"

Q2 chuckled at his kin's lamentation. "It's not impossible. Just difficult."

"Excuse me," spoke a voice from the audience. Everyone's head turned to the dark skinned woman covered almost entirely with purple cloth. "Hi, my name is Guinan. I was just wondering, wouldn't it be to your advantage for you not to make it so difficult for him?"

Q blanched as Guinan involved herself but Q2 was intrigued. "How do you mean?"

"Well," she said as she slowly walked away from her seat and made her way over by the bar the two Q's had mostly to themselves. "According to what you mentioned earlier about your own past you are just about as much a rascal as he is."

Q flinched when Guinan pointed at him but Q2 took it all in stride. "So?"

"So sometime in the future you may find yourself in a similar spot that Q is in now. And if the Continuum is going to use this mode of discipline for it wilder members than it would be to your advantage to establish leniency as part of the program."

"I… see your point," acknowledged Q2. "Unfortunately I can't change the ground rules that are already in place."

Guinan smiled. "But you can add new ones and modify some of the existing guidelines, right?"

"Yes," he admitted as he fumbled with the metal whistle of his referee's uniform. "However I've already said he could only send three people. I can't change that."

"But you could send more people yourself, right? In addition to his three."

"True." Q2 paused to think. _Who was this woman that Q showed fear towards_. As they had conversed Q2 had noticed the surprised, yet shocked look that had displayed on Q's face, however she seemed to be helping him. Q2 began pacing along the side of the bar. The mortals that kept pace with him with their eyes meant very little to him. Even this whole fiasco with the Borg loose in the multiverse didn't really bother him. But that Guinan creature did have a point in that the measures that he put down on Q here and now could later be used on him. The Continuum sometimes did things like that. Stopping short of the large hairless lump of a creature known as Morm at the end of the bar, Q2 swiveled around on his feet to face Guinan and Q. "Very well. I'll do it. Q will be limited to his choice of three but I will also choose an additional three to go along."

Q was unsure if this was a really good turn of events. Instead of three people being sent, there would be six. But they would be against the Borg. Realizing that he was expected to give some form of gratitude and the fact that he did not want to stop any flow of good will coming from Q2, Q smiled.

"Pardon me," came a voice. The man who belonged to the voice was all wide eyes, teeth and bushy curly hair. "As a traveler of time and space myself, I could find ways to help in these ventures as, say, an individual entrepreneur." The Doctor paused to break into an even bigger grin. "That is if I knew the whens and wheres."

Q2 glared at the new intruder. He was especially annoyed that the man just seemed to keep grinning at him. "No one is allowed to know when or when any Borgs have gone until it is time to send out those that have been selected."

Seeing the problem Guinan quickly intervened. "So once everything is selected could the, uh, Doctor maybe make a run for extra recruits?"

Q2 thought a moment. Again this could all work to his advantage later but he couldn't make it to easy. "I don't see why not. This could be used as his tour of duty. However I will have to limit his recruitment to up to four people. The very first four people he meets. And they have to agree of their own free will."

"Oh course," said the Doctor.

"And of course, Q will have to compensate them from his reservoir of powers."

"What!?!" cried Q. "I don't even get to pick them, do I?"

"No," answered Q2. "But I'm going to let you pick another group of four individuals."

Q gave a sigh of relief. It had been the first really advantageous thing to come his way.

"But," Q2 continued, "it will be from very select parts of the multiverse."

Q groaned.

"And you will have to find some form of compensation for them, too."

Q sulked. He was better off than he had been but not by much in his opinion.

The Doctor took it all in and nodded in understanding. Turning to Guinan he tipped his hat to her in thanks for help. Turning back to the two Q's he addressed them both, "Now that that seems to be settled perhaps you can tell us where the first enterprise is to take place?"

To be continued in: A TANGLED WEB Part II : WHAT WOULD YOU LIKE ON YOUR CORUSCANT?


End file.
